Mending a broken wizard
by Glorioux
Summary: A new in-out Greg Goyle is out Azkaban 8 years after. Widowed and pregnant Hermione, loved by other two wizards, falls for him at 1st sight. The return of evil turns a happy day into an explossive hostage situation. Now Complete. Caution: A Citrus Orchard
1. A mended Wizard

**Any recognizable portions belong to JKR.**

Note: EWE. DH compliant more or less, but ignores the epilogue.

Warning: This story touches on forms of sexual abuse, not a glorification but instead portrays the damage it causes. It contains explicit sex scenes and bad language.

I dedicate this fiction to a good friend I made along the FF road. Savva likes Gregory, what can I say? She is my best fan, and that is a compliment, she is one smart, talented cookie.

This fiction explores rehabilitation, the supernatural, changes, bad decisions, friendship, pain, love, technology, and a cameo appearance of Camellia, the good-bad dog. To read more about her please read Camellia, Hermione's present, chapter four and five.

This is a re-write, of a previous version. The original work was only going to be a couple of chapters, and it ended up at nearly 50,000 words. It deserves a second look. The first version was messy and the chapters way too long. Give a try, you might be very surprised.

**The making of a Death Eater.**

**A glimpse into Greg's life **

Greg's massive size scared and intimidated many. By the time he was five he had the height of a ten year old if not older. It made it odd for such a big boy, and now a big man odd how he had and still clung to his mommy.

Greg was large boned, and carried a lot of weight as a child and early adolescent. He descended from the tall, large, fierce Norse wizards that accompanied the Vikings when they invaded the southern lands. His mother came from the Russian lands, from a line of old wizard Warriors, the ruses, hussars, were giants in their own accord.

Some of the fat had turned to muscle while growing up. However, Crabbe had loved sweets, and his mommy had wanted to make Vince feel loved, thus owls came loaded with candy, sweets of all kind, biscuits, and cakes, which Goyle was only to happy to share with his friend.

Greg was smarter that anyone made him out to be, however, he was a very shy child. Thus, his quietness was often equated with being slow as Vince. Hell, even Draco and Greg himself had believed that.

As he grew up, he chose a role model as young people usually do, his was Draco. He wanted to be just like him, alabaster complexion, blond, thin, normal size, and a sex-god; mostly he wished to be loved by both of his parents. Goyle's parents weren't bad; not really, he just perceived his father as cold and detached; it had to do with his father's age, his being so old, bothered Greg.

He had deeply envied Draco's parents while growing up. Funny, how it turned out, that his parents loved him with a great love many would wish for their own. He had felt exactly the same while he was going through his teen-age years, Draco later confessed to Greg.

"Did you know how much I envied your family? Your old father treated you so well, never ever showed any anger or raised his voice. Your mother that always made sure you were always happy, and she was so pretty and so caring," _go figure,_ thought Greg.

His mother, in contrast, was the youngest of the mothers and very beautiful. Since he turned into an adolescent his friends always chose to play at his home, hang out at his home, all wanted to flirt with her.

One day that his mommy came to Hogwarts to bring homemade cakes for the Slytherin common room, they all fell in love with her; it was during his third year. Even Professor Snape sat with them the entire time she was there; and he would always smile around her in a special way reserved for beautiful women.

It had been sheer misery to sit there and hear the fools making comments about his mother. More than once, at the common room, he had heard older students sharing their tales of wanking at her pictures. Vince had smashed one or two heads, more than once, after he heard the rubbish talk, or at being offered a month's allowance to steal one of her knickers.

Many would cut her pictures out the society pages; her strawberry blond hair, blue-green eyes, her Amazon beauty, attracted wizards like flies.

**Greg's Family**

His father's first family was killed during a fire started by Muggle explosive dropped at their manor during the great Muggle war. He waited 30 more years to marry again; he had Greg and then, eleven years later, his little brother, Ephraim.

His father had two other children outside of marriage. They came to live with him when he married Greg's mother.

Their mother, an American witch, had never wanted to marry Goyle Sr.; she had valued her independence, she said. His oldest brother François, killed during the last battle, was 17 years older than Greg; he had followed the father's footsteps. He wasn't even given a proper burial since his remains had been some of the lost. His sister had married and moved to America by the time Greg was eight years old. She wrote him long letters to Azkaban. Her name was Maggie.

His mother, Irina, the woman of Greg's life, was forced to marry when she was two days short of her fifteenth birthday. Her jealous stepmother, wanted her out the way; therefore, the nasty witch had convinced Irina's father to marry her to a man 92 years her senior. It was one tragic tale, Irina's lovelorn father falling in mad passion to his wife's cousin deadly charms.

Goyle's grandfather, a very rich Russian Wizard, had married his dead wife's cousin; a mere thirty-two days after his wife's (Irina's mother) broom had _accidentally_ plummeted 150 meters.

The Aurors concluded that she had probably fainted. Natalia, Irina's mom had been three months pregnant when she had died; and her only sin was to have foolishly trusted _Nikita_, her cousin, with the secret of her pregnancy, she had been pregnant with a son.

Nikita had in turn, met an equally deadly surprise after she married Irina's dad. She had died before a year was up.

The wedding of Nikita and Leo (Irina's father) had held place thirty days after the funeral of his first wife, Natalia. It wasn't long before her turn to die came; she died during childbirth within one year.

The day Nikita went into labour during a nasty electrical storm which made Apparating and Floo travel impossible. On the way to help her, the attending healer had been badly injured after plummeting from his broom. He was found two days later, alive but hurt. Nikita who had had a complicated delivery bled to the death after giving birth to a boy. Fate, karma, whatever you call it, that was all.

Leo was murdered in 2004 during a scrimmage between former Death Eaters and the Aurors chasing them. He wasn't a Death Eater himself; however the fight had spilled into his palace. Along with him, Irina's stepbrother died. He had been Greg's senior by a few months; the son to his second wife - yes, and killed by his aunt Monika, Nikita's sister.

"How sad," as his mommy would say, "Was my father brain dead to marry twice into that nest of vipers, or, maybe he liked what he got? The only nice of the three cousins was my mother, her cousins Nikita and Monika outdid each other, hard to tell who was the most wicked."

Monika (Nikita's sister) was the nastiest witch of the bunch. She had never allowed his grandfather to visit his mommy, or the grandchildren. Monika, the nasty witch, had been killed by Auror Dmitri Krum, brother to the Viktor Krum. Although, not before casting the unforgivable that killed her husband. She had died just moments after she had murdered her stepson.

Monika must have decided to take advantage of the confusion to eliminate all the heirs. It was her misfortune, not to have seen the Aurors coming. Greg always had shivers just thinking about that family of evil witches.

His father had not been really unkind, he had been loving and affectionate, but he looked very old to a young lad; Greg Sr.'s only interest was the preservation of their world. His entire family had been whipped out in a second, by a ball of fire dropped by those evil Muggles; who should have been kept away from their world.

He was concerned with the encroachment of the Muggle world, and their need for secrecy. Through Lucius, he sided with Voldemort with only one mission in mind - to keep the two worlds apart. Wanting to give his sons and descendants a safe word, he had supported a monster whose only interest was his ascent to power.

His father had died in the middle of Greg's fourth year, and by then he had found his place as Draco's goon. His little brother died the same year, two months apart. Ephraim had been killed by a Death Eater's bouncing hex while his mother was taking him to eat ice cream at Fortescue's. He had just turned four. The two tragedies in such a short period had caused incredible pain, his poor mother had a tough time adjusting, and Greg had entirely lost his way.

Greg's mother looked as if she were his older sister, barely sixteen years his senior. She had turned thirty-one when her husband died. Her looks had been her doom after his father died, and his half-brother was sent away in missions all the time. Greg knew how hard Voldemort's years had been for the young widow.

She had been forced to accept the unwelcomed attentions of many Death Eaters. One of them Rabastan Lestrange, seemed to be gallant and gentle, but Voldemort had made clear that she must join Rabastan at all their parties, it was the reason her stepson was sent away all the time.

But he wasn't the only one. They were called to perform 'intimate acts' for the degenerate-snake-monster and he and Bella would share him and her as well.

Greg didn't find the details until the trials; after his mother was pardoned the first day. It wasn't an easy time for her. Overall, she had her share of misfortune, and had been finally granted with a way to save her only son, it came at the price of her father and half-brother being murdered.

***``~~~``*o*``~~~``***

**The way to Azkaban**

Greg knew had known he wasn't innocent. There were several muggles he helped kill and torture. Once, he had even tried to help Vince rape Hermione Granger. At the time, they were all pumped with potions, brewed to bring their killing instincts, their hidden-beasts out, all without their knowledge or consent.

He should have listened to Draco, "Vince, Greg, don't drink that shit potion they give you for strength, it is bad, quit taking it". But no, they both liked the feeling of bravura it gave them. He was intoxicated with the feeling of power.

Later, that same day, the day he had nearly raped the petite witch, he woke up feeling a nasty hangover, and had been horrified at his actions. After all, hadn't he had worshiped the ground the little witch walked upon. Had she not been his dark secret, his mudblood? Fuck what had he done? He ran back down to the cells, behind Mulciber and Fenrir's back.

He brought Granger water, and pain potion, salve for their cuts, blankets and some food. He apologized to her, and asked what else she needed. He had even cleaned up her face, and allowed his fingers linger, she was so very soft. He wasn't aroused, just heady with the feeling to have touched her skin.

He had been glad when she had escaped, but not when he had to witness to her torture. He had bee ill after that, he was sure all the wizards who knew her had been sick, but for simple minded Vince.

It was good of Draco that he told the Wizengamot about the potion. If he had quitted when Blaise, Nott, Pucey, Flint, and many others had, he would have been out with Nott, or not gone to prison at all. Instead, he had chosen to listen to idiots who told them. "Young Malfoy is a coward, he is just jealous that you are so tough." He had been a bully, and had enjoyed beating others. He deserved punishment, but not for so long.

_**Greg's Azkaban **_

**1998 to 2005 **

**Remembering Vince**

"Mr. Goyle, yesterday we were talking about Vince. You were about to tell me about his early days."

Greg didn't like this talking business; however, if it were a requirement of the rehabilitation program, he would do it. He was also required to: actively participate in the advanced studies; attend the counselling program; join muggle studies one hour daily; join either an art's or a craft's course; and play one daily sport. He had enrolled in Yoga and meditation, and an obscure magical version of Asian martial arts.

That wasn't all. Rabastan Lestrange had convinced him to learn fencing, and he had fallen into it with delight. He also jogged daily, a 5 mile run with Lucius, Igantz Knott Sr., and Pavo Pucey. There was a magically created indoor path complete with vegetation, a part of the brand new recreation centre.

"Mr. Goyle, hello, are we here today?"

"Yes, of course, Healer Fritz, we are both here or at least I am. As for Vince, he wasn't at all clever; hence, he will never be able to attend our little chats. He burned to a crisp a while ago." Greg answered bitterly with a touch of acerbic sarcasm.

"Mr. Goyle, we have often discussed your attitude and your less than pleasant behaviour. If this continues, I will have to report it. It is a waste of time for both of us. We have been meeting close to a year, and every meeting has been a painful experience for both of us, maybe you don't like to work with me and perhaps you blah, blah, blah." Greg fazed him out as usual.

The Hufflepuff, healer-counsellor warned Greg for the umpteenth time. He no longer heard the healer; not when he didn't want to. He was good at it, years of practice, being just there at Hogwarts for six years, a wizard can learn to filter out all voices.

_The git looks exactly like a stuffed duck, _Greg thought, and that alone made him feel better. The man had broken him out the hardened shell with his training's chisel; he had broken through his cover, chip by chip. And Greg didn't like it and resisted it at one level; however, at another level, he had subconsciously glanced at the hidden wizard starving for freedom.

The inner-wizard was already emerging cleansed, purified, and stronger, but a festering sore was holding him back. Herb thought the key was: _Vince. _And he wanted to draw him out; Herb wanted Vince out in the open even if it hurt.

Without apologizing, Greg continued talking about Vince; however, not before catching the git's triumphant smirk.

"As, I said, Crabbe wasn't bright at all. His greatest ambition was to be just like Draco. I think we both wanted the same. My momm-mother often said that his being slow had to do with his mother's love of Firewhisky, and the alcohol laced beverages," his throat was very dry, he would have liked some Firewhisky himself. Herb noticed and passed him a glass of water.

"His mother was a lush, a whore, who had married for money." Greg went on," rumours about her were common, maybe they were more than just talk. According to them, she had been picked up from Knockturn Alley by Crabbe's dad. He was a nasty piece of work; the man was an ox, and mean as a cobra."

"So how is than being picked up from the Alley makes you a whore?" Herb was quizzically looking at Greg, "As long as we understand that being a sex-witch does not make a witch intrinsically bad, I would hope that is your understanding; so what was her role in his upbringing?" Greg avoided Herb's eye contact and continued.

"She really didn't have one, she was mostly absent from his life. Vince's mother was a teenager's dream, from her face to her body, she looked like a sex-goddess; ah, lets not forget the way she flirted with any wizard over the age of fourteen, and made you feel as if she was yours only if you asked; she was all of that; a mother she wasn't. I realized it later; I as not yet twelve and whenever she was at home, she would try to feel me up; there was no escaping. She would always make sure to be home the days I would come for Vince."

Herb could not even breathe hearing the revelation. It was as if Greg had not noticed.

Greg's face reflected increased revulsion as he related the troubling events. His tone had changed from flat to emotional, and when he had finished the revelation a shudder ran through him. This wasn't lost on Herb. Neither was the visual of Greg's hands which held on tightly to the arm rests.

"Did she do more than that? Of course, your disclosure is difficult, however it would be helpful to find out more, how old were you, did you tell your parents, did she stop and when? For the record, touching an underage wizard or witch constitutes a sexual offence. You were a victim." Herb wanted to offer him comfort  
***``~~~``*o*``~~~``***

**A/N** For those who read this before, I have grouped the series of events to make it more readable. I enjoy non-linear event telling, recalling past events when they are relevant, however, most of readers do better with a mostly linear description of the events. The end will not be changed, but some parts might come out a little different.


	2. Lost and hurt children

**JKR rules over the HP universe.**

**For Savva.**

**I think there is hope for everyone and many of us hide behind our bodies and attitudes to perpetuate the soul and body injuries inflicted upon us during our forming years. Children are defenceless and they learn what they live. So what if they re-learn and they are willing to change? Once the festering injury is found it can be cauterized and the healing is allowed to begin. Maybe I am being over-simplistic in my attempt to find peace and healing for Greg, but I hope whoever will read this fiction will like it.**

* * *

**The hurt child**

"Did she do more than that? Of course, your disclosure is already painful, however it would be helpful to find out more, how old were you, did you tell your parents, did she stop and when? For the record, touching an underage wizard or witch constitutes a sexual offence. You were a victim."

At once, Herb noticed Greg's defensive posture; after all, this was uncharacteristic to his methodically slow and persistent approach. Herb had bombarded the tormented wizard with questions; his trained counsellor's nose had caught the waft of a vermin, and the eager terrier in him wanted it out in the open.

Herb wanted to destroy the nasty memory gnawing at Greg's injured soul; the terrier wanted the kill it once and for all. He had been suspecting for ages that Greg had been abused; however after meeting Irina, he was no longer certain. Herb ad done a lot of research on each of his patients, and he wanted to help them all.

So, this was it, it was all tied to Crabbe after all, he had been right. His aggression, weight gain, drug abuse, lack of interest in his studies, his criminal behaviour, it was all there. He had read his files, he had also read that witnesses all had attested to his parents love for him; something hadn't added up.

"Do I have to answer? If I refuse, will that constitute, how do you call it, insubordination?" Greg wanted to avoid expanding on his ill timed disclosure; he wasn't even sure why he had brought it up.

**_~```*´´´~~~```*´´´~~~```*´´´~_**_  
_**-The festering pain-**

"Yes, although you must answer, you could answer that you don't want to answer at this time. However, if you don't have a response today, I will ask about it later. I think it is important to address it, considering that you deemed the matter germane enough to bring it up for discussion." Herb's tone sounded -_ as a matter of fact-,_ and in no way open for argument, yet, his demeanour was one of understanding and not judgemental whatsoever.

"Forget it; I will answer the best I can. Yes, she did. I was less than twelve years old when it started; it happened during my first holiday, the yuletide, back from Hogwarts. It was just little things at first, she would rub against me, would get close to fix my tie, a lot of touching, coming down in her _dishabille_, basically naked under a filmy negligee." He stopped and drank a long sip of water. His hands were shaking, and Herb noticed the tapping of his foot.

With a deep sigh, he continued, "Vince would turn red and would pull me to play outside. Then things worsen, I wasn't yet thirteen years old, even if I was very tall for my age; she knew perfectly well how old I was. It got more physical, every time a little more, you know the touching and grabbing, there, my prick." Greg's expression was one of hurt, betrayal, and a bit of anger.

Herb coaxed him to go on, his facial expression said, "Keep it going, I only listen." Since the facial coaxing was not enough, "Greg, again, I am on your side, you didn't do anything wrong, you were nearly a child." This was enough; Greg leaned his head back, and closed his eyes as he spoke.

"No, she didn't stop right away; I think Vince knew. She was unbuttoning my trousers, and you know; she had gotten bolder, of course I liked it and hated it. She would just touch the, you know, until I nearly— you understand, right? One day, she grabbed it and asked me if she could, hmm, put her mouth, and then we could, well, I ran."

Greg sat up, he was paler, his eyes troubled and unfocused.

"Before I left Vince's, she pulled me to the side. She asked me to come and spend the night. I told my mother later, I felt kind of weird. I told her that she wanted me to, you know, to do, you understand, right? I was upset, I will get to that. Ok, it bothered me a whole lot. I remember, it was around that time, at Hogwarts, when I found myself enjoying the power of being a bully and a thug. I was mad at myself and scared at the same time. I did not like her as a person, but she made me feel—" Tears were clouding the young wizards' vision.

Greg had turned his body away from Herb's, his hands were shaking and then he started chewing at an imaginary hang nail. He breathed deeply two or three times, and picked up his tale where he had left it, his voice was uneven, and he had, once again, closed his eyes. His legs would jump, he was clearly very agitated.

"I liked what she did to me; do understand, she never did more than touching, and made me hard, more than hard, twice, maybe a few times, she got her hand around until—. If you don't mind lets get back to Crabbe." It was too much, he was back at being a young boy, defenceless against a witch taking advantage of his youth, his innocence and his fears.

Although, he felt better for saying it, he had entered that room long enough, and he didn't like it; Greg wanted that door closed forever. However, he was unable to stop the words from coming out.

"My mother went and handled 'it' with the witch, true she never talked to me after her meeting with Lady Crabbe. She didn't go alone, with my aging father went with her , and it was embarrassing, it didn't go well."

Greg was remembering how he had cried, and his older brother had overheard.

"François, my oldest half brother heard me crying. My father told him parts of the mess. He was furious, he wanted to go and kill the woman and her miserable husband. I was his little brother, or that was what I believed at the time. He went to my mother. By the end of the day even my older sister knew. François was engaged at the time, a contract he later broke, and he related of observing Lady Crabbe at several balls. He said that she was tawdry, and that she had propositioned him more than once."

Greg still thought that his brother had been killed by Crabbe Sr; he had seen the killing hex and it came from that direction. True his body had never been found, but it was the same with many of them, Crabbe Sr. probably blew him to the high winds, he couldn't see well from where he was at.

Crabbe Sr. never forgave that his darling wife had been _cut-off_ by the young aristocrat at many balls. Vince's father, the monster, had a life sentence, but nobody served them anymore. He had seen him around, and they avoided each other. He would share this with the healer another day. How he felt the wizard observing him quite often and how he felt Crabbe was planning something against him.

"Thanks, that was helpful Mr. Goyle. We will get back to it at a later time during our encounters; I want to make sure you understand that sexual abuse can be detrimental to the healthy development of a young person. Don't look surprised, it was abuse, you were too young and you didn't welcome it. You were a young wizard coming to visit her son. It wasn't your fault." Herb knew that was part of the problem.

"This kind of abuse can contribute and will add, to many, later conflicts; it is a traumatic event. Men, boys, can also be sexually abused by women, it less uncommon than people would dare to think. Let's get back to Mr. Crabbe." Herb added with empathy, yet he was firm.

"Sorry I got ahead of myself. There were earlier incidents, starting when I was still six or seven. There were the days when she was in bed, who knows if in bed? I meant, she was shagging Crabbe Sr. During those days, you could hear his yelps, her loud scream, lewd sexual language and laughter," Greg's voice was low and shaky.

Herb thought of stopping the session, but decided against it, he would let Greg decide when it was enough.

"Vince would pretend he heard nothing. The house-elves looked sorrowful, they thought it was wrong for the young master, they would take us out to play, but it wasn't possible in the cold, rainy days, when we were older we would go into the basement. They had an old torture or potions room, not sure." He stopped and looked around before continuing.

"I used to think he was killing her when I was around seven or eight; this lasted until the day I told my mommy, excuse me, my mother."

Greg stopped and reached for the water. He was flushed, bright red. He knew the prat made fun of him for calling Irina, mommy, and not that he cared, but he hated the smirks.

"Next time, really the following day, my mother came along. I don't remember, maybe someone else waited outside. And sure enough, the party was going on at 10:30 A.M. Mother, always the gentle, yet, scary witch, calmly asked the house-elf to call the lady of the house. My mother is quite terrifying when she is angry; it is in her blood, so she claims."

He forced a smile, this was more painful than a Cruciatus curse, but he felt the need to continue.

Then he looked at his counsellor, and Greg smirked, and thought._ Herb-the-git cracked a smile; he just doesn't know mommy is truly scary._

"Lady Crabbe, who adored the title, came down promptly. She didn't attempt to hide the animosity she nurtured towards my mother's aristocratic ways. Vince and I hid behind a couch to listen. I didn't understand much of what was said, but I heard - the Knockturn Alley and the ministry, and would tell the ladies from the 'something or other' club."

Greg stopped for a minute, and played with the silver-arm-cuffs he now wore all the time.

"The only thing that changed was the use of silencing charms the next time Crabbe Sr. and the lady were playing hide-the-sausage, that was Crabbe Sr.'s term, "Goyle, you will tell you're your lovely mommy we were quiet when we played hide-the sausage, won't you? Tell her I will gladly hide any sausages for her pleasure. After all, I am much younger than your decrepit father and a lot more entertaining. I never repeated that to my mother, I assumed it was nasty."

Herb couldn't help but shudder, Vince's father was a sociopath and a monster. He knew that he was a prisoner here, and there were days, later, that he would feel the need to pay someone to put the monster out his misery; he went as far to discuss it with his wife.

**Vince's tragedy**

"As for Vince," Greg went on, "He continued either playing or eating alone or with a house-elf, as usual. Perhaps it was a good thing that she was almost never there; mostly she was busy playing the 'great lady' and drinking all day long. You could say that she was notoriously absent from her son's life. Crabbe spent weekends at my home, often slept over; and had his own room at our Manor by the time he turned seven." Greg's eyes lit up with love, love for his friend Vince, it pained Herb.

"So what changed? You often refer to your home life as 'well balanced', Crabbe was enjoying a good family environment; this must have had a positive impact on his life."

"Some, but there was also Crabbe's father; who pretended nothing was wrong with Vince. The nasty wizard dragged him with him everywhere since he was able to walk. Thus, Vince, since he was wearing nappies, witnessed beatings, tortures, rapes, and perhaps murders, I am not sure." He stood up and continued talking while he paced across the room as a caged beast.

"Vince used to cry a lot when he was little and often wet on his bed. It was sad, my mom-, mother, often cried over him, and whenever he was with us, she hugged and kissed him. Vince loved that." Greg's face illuminated with one of his brilliant and rare smiles.

Herb was heterosexual, however, he was always in awe when this tall wizard smiled; this was a rare treat. Now that he was lean, and grown, his true facial beauty had surfaced. It was the same process Greg was undergoing inside.

Herb could see the bright eyes lit up with the beautiful memory; big Crabbe held in love by a witch that loved him as a second son. At least, the poor boy, a victim, had known real love during his short lifetime.

He had inherited his mother's traditional beauty that became more apparent during his confinement years. At Azkaban, the extra body mass had turned into lean muscle. He stood at a 6' 7" (2.07 m) tall; his mother's family was all tall.

Herb's wife, Therese, had seen Greg during the in-house musical functions, and had jokingly remarked, "Love, it is too bad that I am engaged, soon to be a married witch, or otherwise Lord Goyle would not be safe."

They both laughed even if Herb had not been quite sure of how much of it was teasing. The petite-Asian-Muggleborn witch was the love of his life. Who had said that you couldn't find love and friendship in a place like Azkaban?

Thanks Merlin for all the changes started by that famous Muggleborn witch, Hermione Granger. He had met her a couple times during staff meetings. All the wizards were half in love by the time the meeting was over. She had asked for all her school mates, including Greg.

He had seen Crabbe Sr. around. He was one of the ones who adhered to all the rehabilitation programs, and also attended mental-healing. However, Herb had refused to work with him.

The man was popular amongst the harder core Death Eaters, and he had seen him as the tried to befriend Goyle; you had to admire the young wizard, he had not demonstrated any emotions other than indifference to the nasty man.

His counsellor had shared with Herb, the fact that Crabbe Sr. wasn't one bit contrite, it was all a front; and that was what he had reported to the Winzegamot, along with his attempts to bribe him more than once. He didn't want the Dark wizard out any time soon, he had the feeling he had some grandiose plan, and he had told the court.

After a short pause for Greg to go to the loo, and to stretch his legs out; they had a cup of tea and they continued.

"Poor Vince, he was also beaten regularly, probably by the father. Not sure why, the beatings ended once he was eight. Maybe Vince hit back. His father was unpleasant enough to have thought of such a reprisal as manly."

Greg shrugged his shoulders, but he was clearly distressed. He wasn't smiling, his brows were knitted in a frown, and his hands hung limply at his sides. He appeared defeated, the memories were clearly painful.

Greg had shivers, what the trained healer easily detected. Herb had observed the change in the air a few seconds ago. A darker aura with red splotches now surrounded Greg. One of his gifts was seeing auras clearly; he could do it ever since he had clear memories.

Sparks of angry magic flew around the room. One had actually zinged and burned one of Herb's shoulders. The room had wards and protection for instances like this. Many of his patients were hard core killers and criminals. Release of dark magic, or negative charges were common during intensive therapies.

He waited for his patient to continue. Greg's magic was getting stronger; it was part of his self-acceptance. His records had stated that his magic was weak in no uncertain terms, Herb remembered, _not a strong Wizard nearly a squib, _ha_, ha. _Herb could clearly recognize that his journey to self-discovery had unblocked a plug from his magic core. It was one of the best parts of his job, the good findings as patients recovered from deep traumas; the emerging of the wizard/witch kept in bonds by their pasts.

"Vince knew every dark bar, pub, and whorehouse in the Alley. Crabbe Sr. took him to a whore the day he turned fifteen; he often got drunk with his son; they chased and tortured muggles for fun; damn, Vince was around five or seven intellectually and maybe even socially, he could have been a good happy child the rest of his life." He sat once more.

"I, the great friend, invited him to accompany me on my road to perdition, as if he needed more bad influences. Some good friend I was." Greg's demeanour had totally changed; it was one of derision, self-loathing, sorrow, defeat and contempt. Even his voice had changed, it had turned into a monotone, void of emotions, or so many emotions that each neutralized the other, too much of a bad thing.

"The nasty and sorry excuse for a father, the fucking Dark wizard, finally dragged Vince to get the Dark Mark by the time he was sixteen. Vince was doomed since day one; his days are as Dark Eater were numbered; he was unable to control or master any kind of every-day charms, spells or hexes, much less Dark magic; and sure enough, he was easily consumed by the _Fyend Fire_ he invoked it that terrible day."

At this Greg's tears really started to flow; he had not cried since the day that Vince was consumed by the fire. Just thinking about it usually made Greg angry, and he didn't want to dwell over those dark times.

He had never cried like this his entire life. He didn't give a fuck, let the git think he was a cry-baby, he didn't care anymore. His sobs were heart wrenching as he lowered his face in Herb's desk top over his arms, and cried while he repeated Vince's name over and over.

* * *

A/N Next chapter Azkaban and out, "Forging and tempering."

I'd appreciate if you took a minute and appraise this re-vamped fiction.


	3. Tempering a soul

**JKR rules over the HP universe.**

**For Savva.**

**For those who want to read about Camellia, please go my story, 'Camellia, Hermione's present" Chapter 4.**

JKR has it all, but I have my story and my brain.

Thanks to those who have reviewed, I have personally known those who have lives similar to Vince's. No magic, or murders, or Death Eaters, yet the parents not far from his own. Savva darling this is for you.

Last chapter. He had never cried like this his entire life. He didn't give a fuck, let the git think he was a cry-baby, he didn't care anymore. His sobs were heart wrenching, he lowered his face on top of Herb's desk and cried while he repeated Vince's name.

* * *

**Tempering and forging**

Herb, the counsellor proved to be a gentle, caring wizard. He stood up, moved a chair and sat next to Greg, and he gave the tall wizard his own clean handkerchief. Although Greg accepted it gracefully, he felt somehow uncomfortable to have broken down in front of Herbert.

Herb knew Greg better than the young wizard realized. Greg had grown surrounded by caring, loving parents, and an older and a younger brother, who probably didn't withhold physical affection.

Herb had noticed many things about Greg; namely, his behaviour around the older Wizards; how he would walk close to them, and he, occasionally, would link their arms, as father and son; once in a while, he would, also, accept small hugs from Lucius and his friends' parents. No doubt, he was demonstrative, probably his family upbringing.

Moreover, he had also observed him around his mother, holding her hand, hugging her, not forced, it felt genuine and familiar. His mother was a beautiful witch, whenever she would visit all the counsellors and administrators would flock around her. Going back to Greg, he was very affectionate and probably missed the contact of others. Goyle was surprising at times and worthwhile all his efforts. Herbert could not longer see the brute he had first seen, that wizard was long gone.

Greg couldn't stop crying, he was sobbing to the extent of choking. Herb's eyes were wet as well. He had also lost friends and family during the war and had seen too much pain. Greg finally laid his head on Herb's shoulder while the counsellor patted his back.

After a few minutes, Herb stood up to bring him a potion, just to sooth his raw nerves; it was very mild, mostly herbs. He brewed calming herbal tea which they drank in companionable silence. They spend the next hour drinking in silence.

Greg quietly cried for a while longer, as he calmed down, he just drank the tea with his eyes closed and enjoyed the newly formed bond. The tears were cathartic and sealed a contract with him; it was a commitment to stay on his path to self-improvement and to go forward without looking back; that day marked the start of Greg's real transformation.

After a few more sessions, he changed counsellors upon Herb' requests; he wanted Herb as a friend and told him so. Herb, in turn, had explained to Greg about healer-patient's dynamics, and although Greg understood, he was unhappy about it; nevertheless, he followed through with Herb' recommendation.

A year after, he stood by Herb at his wedding. It was conducted at the Recreation-Hall; she was also a Medi-healer. In nine and half months, he was also asked to be the godfather to Herb's older son, Gregory Vincent Ramsey.

The Hufflepuff, a Half-Blood, was now one of Greg's best friends, and would remain so for the rest of their lives; albeit of being nearly a decade older than him, it didn't matter. Later, Greg would later offer Herb one of their properties, a very nice cottage, it had been the steward's cottage and was part of the estate; at that time, he "would become an employee and partner in one of Greg's ventures.

It worked well for all of them. Neither Herb nor his spouse came from money, and the cottage was beyond anything they could afford. So, Herb's wife and the children were able to reside there for free as long as they wanted, which turned out to be for the rest of their lives; and Therese became their family healer and the one for the estate.

Greg didn't stop with his self-discovery since he was committed to advance. However, he still mourned Vince and his goal was to save other Vince-likes from lives of abuse and sorrow didn't change.

He had asked the counsellors what would be a good profession which would help him free children, such as Vince, from bad situations. They all recommended learning the law, and about children born with magical abilities but with damaged brains.

Vince case was not only uncommon, but rather typical. The biggest roadblock was that nobody wanted to go against powerful families; and even when friends knew the situation, solicitors didn't want to handle the cases. So he undertook two studies, to be a paediatric Healer, and one who specialized on Family Law. He had plenty time inside; and it was either that, or to be locked inside your cell.

Once his decision was made, he focused on learning during his time in prison; it gave him hope to plan for a future when he would be out. His professors were former Death Eaters as it was his case. He took classes with Lucius Malfoy, Lestrange, Pucey, Nott, and others; they were brilliant and committed to change.

Lucius had been the one Death Eater he hadn't, initially, wished to befriend. For one, he still wanted to manage the Wizarding world from Azkaban, and besides, he could not forget the role Malfoy had played in his father's demise.

He just couldn't overlook that Malfoy lived and breathed for his family, even when he was quick to cut Draco down, often over his, perceived as lacklustre, accomplishments. Besides that, Draco was the apple of his eye life. However, he had been a supremacist of the worse kind and had allied himself with a monster. Lucius didn't go down alone, he dragged his classmates and friends down with him; and also those who knew and respected his valuable opinion. Lucius was a force of nature, one to be feared and reckoned.

Greg's gentle older father had never wished to be a Death Eater, but listened to Lucius' false rhetoric, ending up a believer and six feet under. That was the one thing that Greg had difficulty forgiving and consequently distrusting Lucius. Greg had judged him as responsible for bringing in at least 80% of the wealthiest Death Eaters wand ruining their lives.

As far as the majority of the Pureblood, educated, former death eaters, they welcomed a chance for intellectual challenges. The prison reform was effectively changing many lives for the best. Maybe they weren't all 'Muggle-lovers', but a sprit-de-corps between wizards of all bloods had formed in their closed quarters.

Of course not between everyone, there were some hard core criminals and other truly dangerous prisoners in Azkaban.

Greg's natural intelligence was allowed to grow and flourish. He was less inbred than most purebloods he knew, and this represented more chances to have less birth defects. His association with Vince had put him in the same category. With no ring leaders, and nothing else to do, except working out and studying, he allowed his intellectual, yes you read it right, side flourish.

His mind was sharp and bright. He was born to a long line of scholars; he had told Herb when he complimented him; he couldn't even credit himself for his effort. However, at Hogwarts, he hadn't done well at all. Herb said it was due to the trauma.

To all the ones still in, Greg had been their son by proxy. After the terrible 'cleanse by fire' day with Herb, his friends' circle expanded. He was no longer extra quiet and brooding, that wizard slowly faded out, and the new improved version emerged.

The older Wizard liked the bright, quiet young wizard who had blossomed in captivity. He was quiet yet affectionate and easy to like. They all felt contributors to the reshape of the young wizard. He gave them hope for their own children, for their own lives.

A couple years prior to his release, he started wearing his long hair plaited; it was a style he had found in a book about his ancestors; he pierced one ear to hang a long snake fang. To turn it into an earring, he had made the platinum and silver wrap around it. It was a project during for his class in jewellery with precious metals, taught by a very old wizard who had been a silversmith.

He had made twin silver and gold cuffs and always wore them. The wide cuffs were engraved with old runes of protection and happiness. Besides in each one he had inserted the initials of the witch he had loved from afar for a long time.

He knew and accepted; she would never give him a second look for as long as he should live, he knew that she was way out his league. He was one of the many who now held her in high regard. More than once, he had to listen to plans to court her, just as soon as the wizard making the plans was out free. They were all better than him.

Draco, who would visit him once in a while, had asked him what all the runes meant, and he said, "You need to find out yourself, they are symbols of dreams I will attain in my next realm." He didn't hold any illusions.

As it turned out, both his best professor, and also the old wizard who had written powerful charms inside his arm cuffs, wanted a cuff, and the same request was made by Lucius, Rabastan and his other professors. He made them and gave them as gifts. He also made one for Herb, a ring for Therese, and a charm for his godson.

Each piece was an object d'art, too bad he didn't see them like that. None of the wizards ever took them off to this day. They became their symbol of their effort to be re-forged while paying their dues. He was glad to do for them, but instead of his dream witch's symbols, he looked for the initials of their spouses.

He wouldn't do them for Draco, he attributed it to a lost of interest. His last work was for his future wife whoever she might be; one of the pieces was a set, their wedding rings. The stones had been smuggled by Herb for him, because the kind he had wanted was unavailable at Azkaban. He also made emerald earrings for Maggie, a few other pieces, and an intricate ring for his mother with rare ambers, and quartz, and matching pendant and earrings.

One thing was certain; Greg would always be glad that upon his mother's insistence, he had signed for the entire Gryffindor princess' educational and mental health programs. The bloody Granger had saved him and many others, and had made the prison life bearable. No, she wasn't bloody, that is just what he told his Mommy back then. He couldn't bear to tell her the truth.

It never fail to surprise others that Irina still had such hard hold on him; they just didn't know his mum was plain scary, and no longer tolerated Greg having his 'own way'.

The other scary one was Hermione, more than once he had told Draco, "Draco, Granger is she is just like mother, but she is so short than she reminds me of a small Kneazle kitten." He had told Draco after the trials.

**Greg's secret**

And what a kitten she had been. Phew, he had wanked to her memory more than once, well maybe more than a few hundred, never mind. He had stolen a few pictures from Draco at Hogwarts. That boy, who took pictures, Colin, took many of Hermione when the young witches were sunning outside. It was during their 5th year.

In the pictures, she wore those tiny muggle be-kee-nees in all sort of wild colours. Draco was in lust with the Mudblood witch, "She is so tiny and thin, and pretty. Never mind I will just take that delicious bum, I could sink myself inside for the rest of my life, and too bad she is so muddy. Bah, who cares, she will make a fine mistress." Draco had made a claim since ever, as if Granger would have him for a lover.

"Draco you are crazy, she would kill you before she became your mistress." Vince would dare tell him, and Draco would smack him across the head. Vince couldn't understand why Draco lusted after a Mudblood. Too bad he had not maintained that attitude when she had been taken.

Personally, Greg liked her tits, the bum was fine, but her tits, her legs, and the tiny cloth covering that luscious mound, thinking about kept him hard for days at a time.

Yes, Greg's big secret was his love for Hermione Granger. Even when he was willing to chase her and torment her upon Draco's request, Greg's feelings for her were growing; he admired her intelligence and her valour. Granger had been his first love.

Draco was a fool; he had the looks to go for her, but instead missed the best shag in the entire Hogwarts, after Millicent of course. Well, that was a maybe; he had no way to tell.

That was before when Millicent-, oh what a shag that big girl had been. Hermione was really too small, he might have broken her in two. He wasn't a bragger, but facts were facts. If not, ask all his friends at the showers after they had played Quidditch or any other sport, they laughed and asked if Bullstrode had already played with her "real bull".

"Goyle, you better hide your cock from the witch you plan to marry. Keep it inside the trousers, at least until after the wedding; if she sees it before, she will be sure to run. If I was her, I would be afraid if you came to me with that battering ram. Hell, I don't even envy it, it looks positively scary." They would laugh, and he could tell they were just jealous.

Draco would repeat to him in jest whenever they were drunk, way back then. It was a running joke. And Greg knew it was a bit of an exaggeration but not by much.

He had often chuckled at the memory. More than once the poncy fucking guards at prison had offered him favours and little luxuries, he only needed to allow them to blow him, bastards, he wanted to hex them to hell. He was just not like that. Too bad there were no female guards, and he would smile at his own wit.

Greg's father lost much during the war years, and his mum had been made to pay hefty sums in war reparations for all the damage Greg had caused. He had burned homes, destroyed property, just to name a few. It made him ashamed.

Irina had been left with just enough to maintain the house and take care of the elves. Later on, Irina inherited all her dead father's estate; it was a vast, great fortune, and half of it belonged to Greg as per the will. When Leo had died she finally had money to pay for his defence. It was one sunny-warm day on 2005 when Greg left the cold island.

Goyle Manor, England, Early summer, 2005 The star solicitor

The tall, 26 year old, now powerfully muscled but all sleek mass, wore his dark-strawberry-blond hair long. It grew way down his back. His large dark green-aqua eyes were slightly slanted with heavy eyelashes, high cheek bones, and a strong sensual mouth, his face was made of strong, aesthetic planes.

It didn't matter, instead of an exotically, handsome wizard, whenever he looked at himself in the mirror, all he could see was the gross fleshly bully of his youth. He had no idea of his real appearance.

Greg's mommy told him, "Gregory, dushka, I met this widow witch at one of those after-war-functions, she is going to take your case."

He had not even bothered asking whom that person was, as if cared. Damn solicitors, he had gone to prison because of them in the first place.

He had shaved after his mother's, "Gregory Ivan Goyle, the Rasputin looks" her.

"Yes mommy, considered it done." All his mother's friends thought it so endearing, how this tall, very handsome wizard, who had inspired the fear of many, still called Irina, mommy, walked with her holding hands, and always kissed her goodbye.

"Oh, if I was only sixty years younger", one of the Ladies who had come to bring him welcoming presents, had said the day before. And the other Ladies had sighed when he had flushed bright red

Yeah, like he had witches flocking to him. Life was nothing but a big disappointment, even Millicent had forsaken him. Came twice to see him, and wrote the allotted twelve owls per year for the first two, then zippo, nada, nothing.

Draco told him six months after her silence, that Millicent had married some rich American Wizard, some twenty years her senior. So much for I will wait for you forever, he would often think about her betrayal.

This day, he was dressed in summer-light-navy robes that hung too big on him, they were from his former years. Under the robes he wore very loose yoga bottoms, a light summer jumper, and dragon hide boots. Today, he had not braided his hair, just tied it with a leather strip wrapped in metal wire, his own craft.

Kimmy, his house elf, was livid the moment she saw him, "Master Greg, you is bad, I says the left-wardrobe had the robes I have not fixed, takes it off, now, and yus nasties pyjamas, they is rubbish."

She jumped up and down; it reminded him of Draco's temper tantrums, or little Ephraim. He smirked.

Greg just shrugged his shoulders, and went straight into their kitchen. This in turn created an early house-elves' melodrama, complete with screams, cries, head bangs, the works.

"Yous is bad, out the elves workplace, you tells us, we bring." They started to bang their little bodies against the walls, the stasis cooling room, wherever they found.

He grabbed four of the small beings at the same time, "No more of this nonsense, I order you to stop at this moment, if you keep hurting your heads, I will give you all new clothes." He smirked evilly, and left them to do whatever they did.

Greg pulled two beers out the cold room, went by the liquor cabinet, filled out a glass with amber liquid and left. After he was out of their sight, away from the kitchen, he let out a big guffaw. He had missed the little pain-in-the-bum, bossy creatures.

Best part about been home was the alcohol, it brought him peace, it quieted his inner demons. Nothing like a liquid breakfast, a muggle German crystal wizen beer, a slice or two of lemon, enhanced with a healthy dose of firewhisky. Yeah, the beverage was needed to help him burn away the loneliness and the tears of those long, very long years.

Greg Goyle sat outside of his parent's manor. It was his third day out of Azkaban. So was this it? He wasn't sure what to do with his life; after all, seven and a half years of his young life were gone. He was nearly 26, and had spent eighty four months, 2556 sunrises, and 2555 sunsets behind closed doors, gone in the time it took to wave a wand. He no longer knew how to behave in normal society.

He couldn't stop thinking about the 'injustices' of how sentences had been passed, one that always irked him was Draco's, and as usual his mind dwelled upon what couldn't be changed.

And what about Draco, why only 1 year for him? Wasn't Draco the one who had jumped started Greg Goyle towards the darkness? 'Yes, he pushed me on that path right when he made me the Slytherin Prince's goon. At least I am alive, how about poor Vincent? He just was a slow foolish boy.'

Well, to be fair, the time of confinement had not been all wasted. Greg had a good education at Azkaban, and spent his time behind bars sans dementors. "So why was I in prison for so long?" He would often wonder, and he had yet to control that anxiety, the one to be locked for life.

The answer was simple, because he was one of the sacrificial lambs. He wasn't a Malfoy, who had squeaked his way out of prison. No other, than Harry Potter and Hermione had spoken for the Malfoys. Lucius was let out at the same time with Greg, after all the crimes he had committed.

Although, it had made Greg bitter, it had made him glad for Draco's and for Narcissa's sake. Even Lestrange brothers had been out before him on counts the demented Bellatrix had them under a nasty old curse; everyone had an excuse but him.

As Greg sat enjoying the warm morning and thinking about his life, he got into one of his favourite theories about the way thing are. Karma, maybe it was all about Karma, look at his grandmother's cousins and how they died. And now thank to everyone's deaths there had been enough money for his defence and to finish paying all the reparations, and they were still very rich, not that he cared.

Something about comeuppances or karma, later that week, he would ask Draco. Draco was into metaphysical studies. Perhaps an undertaking while he mourned after Granger. She had given him a swift goodbye kick, according to Draco when he had come to see him a little over two years before, or was it three?

"Draco, so, did you propose to Granger?" Greg loved punishment. Lucius would never talk about family. He was relieved when Draco told him that he had waited to propose to the golden girl, because he wanted to play the field.

Weasley had done the same thing to Hermione, and had also lost his chance with her. Apparently, to Narcissa's chagrin, Draco had taken a two-week cruise with Blaise, Pansy and some other witch, or was it a wizard. Pictures of them sunbathing naked, and in other compromising positions had made front-page for several days.

He wondered what had happened to her. He was sure he would hear about his favourite witch, after his mother.

The star solicitor

He was getting tired of waiting for the visit of the solicitor responsible for getting him out of jail. The one, his mother had befriended, a good friend of Narcissa, a young window. He wasn't sure whose, not yet quite sure of the relations or who was who. His solicitor wanted to discuss his plans for the next five or so years, since he continued to have to report to the Ministry thru her.

Greg's mommy told him, "Gregory, dushka, I met this widow witch at one of those after-war-functions, she is going to take your case."

He had not even bothered asking whom that person was, as if cared. Damn solicitors, he had gone to prison because of them in the first place.

Greg was totally immersed in his thoughts. Gods, he missed Crabbe every day, a small abused boy in the body of a man. He had forgiven himself for his part on it, and he would make sure his dead would not have been in vain

The solicitor in the Garden

But, going back to the karma issue, that was a Good Question, he thought. He wanted to talk about Karma. He thought about his time in prison; he knew he had paid some karmic debt; therefore, things were going to start to look up for him, one could only hope.

"Wool gathering, Goyle, or it is now Greg? Just tell me," an amused soft feminine voice broke him out his revelry.

He turned around toward the voice's source but the sun was blinding, and all he could see were two female figures clad in summer robes coming towards him.

A running white furry tornado, came out of nowhere, and unceremoniously jumped and catapulted onto his lap. A laudable groan escaped his lips as a fur-ball landed right on top of his unprotected groin.

She was a weird looking, small dog, (had a pink bow in her hair); she reminded him, in a tiny scale, of that monster dog kept by the dirty half-giant. Ah, yes, Fluffy was the name, but at least this one had only one head, was quite small, was mostly white, with long hair maybe a little curly, yet, there was something was 'fluffyish' about it, not sure what, maybe the square head? He could sense the part demon inside.

Crystalline, feminine, joyful laughter filled the air, and broke right through his sombre mood; and a brilliant smile broke through the surface of his constant grimace, his mother was amazed. Gods he had her old love's smile, he sure did.

Hermione's breath stopped. That tall handsome wizard with the radiant smile, brown or was it some kind of dark blond reddish hair? He couldn't be Goyle; the wizard she was looking at was Witches' Weekly centre-fold material. Maybe he was a cousin!


	4. Goyle remeets Granger

**JKR rules over the HP universe.**

**For Savva.**

**For those who want to read about Camellia, please go my story, 'Camellia, Hermione's present" Chapter 4.**

* * *

**Last chapter**

_Hermione's breath stopped. That large handsome wizard with the radiant smile, brown or was it some kind of blonde reddish hair, couldn't be Goyle, the wizard she was looking at was Witches' Weekly centre-fold material._

* * *

**_Hermione according to Greg_**

She was the best solicitor; the number one legal counsel at the wizarding world, for certain in all the United Kingdom. He had read about her, but didn't heed to her firm's name. She had earned a law degree, in a record 1 1/2 years, from a renowned muggle university. Followed by another certificate in some psyc-ol-gee, or something like that. Its purpose was to heal magical people from diseases of the soul, same than his mental-healer, but less magical more science.

Then she took two more years of Magical Law, and worked as a solicitor for the Wizengamot. In order to work at the Ministry, she had turned down offers world-wide; someone told him that she had been offered one million galleons by a shady multi-national. In a short two years she had made a name and amassed a large fortune, not only for her, but for her associates.

Her company shared a brand new office building, at an un-plotted muggle London posh area, with '**EyE'. **It was an Investigations bureau, owned by Harry Potter, Bill, Ron, and Charlie Weasley; they were something akin to Aurors, he had read. Mrs. Weasley, the mother was the assistant for both offices. He had also read about Mr. Weasley who worked with the muggle authorities, their Aurors, poli-something or other. They all were in the news quite often, and matter of fact assisted the Ministry in tough cases. Draco had gone to work for them.

The firm had won case after case. In two years they obtained the pardons for Narcissa, cut down Lucius' sentence from life to seven; Rabastan's to six, Rodolphus just got out with him, it was made possible when Bellatrix's Imperius on the two brothers was uncovered; and the same or similar results for many others who had served the Dark Lord under duress. The Dark-Eater's crusader, the witch of the golden trio, now fighting for the rights of the same she fought when she was so young. She was one strange witch, always defending those who needed her the most.

The list of her accomplishments was humbling. It was Rabastan, trying to obtain his mother's and forgiveness that had offered Irina the proverbial olive branch: Hermione to rescue Greg from Azkaban. He had even offered to pay for his defense. Greg thought the wizard was in love with his mother. Greg liked him, and maybe it would be not bad. They had all suffered a lot.

Lestrange had changed a lot, and he knew in good faith that he kept his mother's picture with Greg and his little brother, by his cot side. It had been taken during Ephraim's naming ceremony. And one photo, that he had wanted to pinch more than once, of a teenaged Irina dressed like a princess dancing with a very young and dashing Rabastan, going around and around in circles, so young and beautiful. He loved her a lot.

**Hermione**

The Goyle she remembered was a burly-giant, a nasty-goon, or that was her recall. It had been eight years since she last saw him. Could that hunk be him? The eyes were that deep green-blue, and the mouth, and those full lips. And that earring, damn, he was smoking hot, with his sleeves rolled up and the cuff bracelets. He had a faded mark, the dark mark? He must be a cousin, hot damn. Nobody could change that much, on the other hand, she remembered her looks at thirteen, not the hottest beauty of them all.

She was held prisoner at the Malfoys the last time she had contact with him. It was because his act of kindness that she took his case.

At first, he had been a nasty wizard who had aided that brute Crabbe during his attempt to rape her. Later, when he came back with water, food, blankets, pain-potion, and salve for all of them, she saw a different Goyle. He had been very kind, he had cleaned her face gently, his very large hands surprisingly agile and soft, "I am sorry you are here, I wish I could help you, I will ask Draco." He appeared to be embarrassed.

"I am sorry about what I did earlier. I am afraid that sometimes I feel as if I was under an Imperious, but I'm not. However, even that isn't a reason to behave like animal. My mother would be ashamed of what I have become." He had looked contrite and very sad.

**The ex-convict and his solicitor**

_I know that voice_. Greg knew the voice, unable to trust his own memory, tried to think fast. His heart was beating madly. How could she be here? His entire body was reacting in not so surprising ways.

Greg wanted to make sure he had figured out whose voice before turning around. It was her, it must be.

"Granger, is that you, and what are you doing here?" Asked as he tried to pull the wild-fur-force away from his face, by now covered with dog cuddies," I thought my solicitor's name was Granp-"

She interrupted him, "So right, you are correct, I see how you could have been easily confused; it was a silly idea but it caught on, '_Granpucnot'_, the Gran is for Granger" she offered her hand, which he took with alacrity and forgot to let it go.

"First time you see me, no wonder. Before today, you'd always refused to meet with either one of us. Never mind, just forget it, _that is water under the bridge_, let's get started at the beginning shall we?" she leaned towards him with another dazzling smile; she knew he still had her hand, but who was noticing.

Greg's mind was wondering. He had wanted to find her and ask her for a job. He didn't need to get paid, just to work. He had also studied law to help all those idiots at Azkaban who were less guilty than him, and with less financial resources to pay for competent defense. In truth, it was his calling to help all the Vince-children out there, who were abound in his wizarding world.

He was not sure, but read somewhere that they had over 50 employees besides their associates, an army of witches and wizards, who were hired for their qualities not for their pasts. Damn that must be where both Lestrange were now working, of course, it made sense. It must be the same place that employed centaurs, werewolves, half-trolls and all other kind of strange magical folk, it all fit.  
_  
_Ah, he got it, an association with some of her former enemies, Pucey and Nott; there were also junior assistants, Astoria, Daphne Greengrass, who were in charge of research, both brilliant, had studied magic forensics, of course he had not bother to find out the name of their bureau, he assumed it was Hermione Granger. He was such an idiot, just what she thought about him. What a great re-meet, the baboon meets the genius princess.

"Earth to Goyle, am I boring you, or?" She pulled out her hand, and he let it go absently.

She leaned towards him and poked his arm. As she leaned, the wind carried a whiff of her fragrance; he would forever swear that she had smelt of freedom, pristine flowing streams, wild flowers, old books, and, yes, it was an intoxicating scent that invaded his mind and permeated his senses.

"Gregory Ivanovich Goyle;" cringe, he knew better; when his mother started with the "ovich" business, she meant, _soldier stand at attention, and disobey at risk of great peril. _It made him feel five years old.

"Love, could you please answer Hermione?" He heard his mother's lightly accented voice coming from a distance, as if waking up from a dream. He shook his head hoping to clear it up.

"Pardon me, could you repeat it, Granger?"

"And stop right there, Gregory Ivanovich Goyle, who is Granger, what kind of manners are we having? At home you behave like the gentleman wizard whom I hope you are."

"Irina, darling, let it go." Hermione told her.

Greg was amazed and his eyebrows knotted, "Did you just call my mommy, Irina and darling?" _What was up? Was someone taking over his MOMMY_?_ It would be a while before he would let a stupid witch, or for that matter anyone, take over his mom. _Those were the feelings of insecurity; he had been battling for so long. Irina had been the only constant since all fell apart. Suddenly Hermione was not longer so attractive.

At this, the women stood next to each other, linked arms, laughing with mirth. _He looks so sweet_, both witches thought looking at him.

"As Irina and-" started Hermione, in an attempt to answer his question, but Greg abruptly interrupted her. He had never allowed Crabbe, to ever call his mommy other than Lady Goyle. Only Ephraim, had the right to be close to her, ok, and his half brother and sister, they also did, had, whatever.

That knowing look between them; the way that Irina linked arms with Granger; it was exactly as she used to behave with him; had Irina found a daughter to replace her no-good-for-nothing-criminal son, the Azkaban-Death-Eater-son? Now, he had also lost his mommy, life was unfair. He must be behaving being infantile and ridiculous like a child, but so what, he didn't care.

"I don't get it. What is going on? I have been here for a couple of days, and mo- mother has not said anything about any changes. She has always been formal, now you two appear to be best of friends? And Mom, since when do you dress so casual? Miss Granger, I thought you were my solicitor, and are you two also friends? I just want to understand, nothing wrong with that, I just, I want, I am confused. Is this some kind of 'modern' relationship?"

He had once again reverted to the brooding persona from earlier, but had said more words than Hermione had ever heard him say all at once; a little aggressive but it was nice to hear his voice; it was deep, rich, and kind of sexy.

"Ah, yes, well, humph, your mother and I, have become more than client and solicitor, we have grown quiet close during the last year, and since when am I Miss Granger, how about Hermione?" And with that, Irina reached her hand taking the younger witch's into hers.

Greg's eyes focused in their hands; his eyes were trained on them, like a hawk on his prey. Gods, he had heard about witches, you know the kind, the kind that you know. No, it could not be, not his mother and Granger, like in snogging and- or yes? He felt a little sick. That must be it. No wonder the look, and the – aggh, this was so very wrong, in so many ways. He would be the laughing stock of everyone; his mum had stolen his witch.

"Greg, Hermione is right. I was waiting for a few days before talking to you. I wanted to welcome you home, just the two of us. However, this is a good time as any to bring you up to date. I will be marrying Robert Grant Granger, her father, in just two months. It will be a small ceremony, and I was expecting you would give me away." Irina had let the cat out the bag, and some cat it was.

Greg looked at her with empty eyes, shrugged his shoulders and answered, "You are old enough to know what you are doing. But how strange that Lady Goyle, spouse to one of Voldemort's loyal court, would be marrying the Muggleborn princess' father?" His mournful voice was barely audible. He might have preferred the other alternative, the one of two witches; at least some might think it kind of hot.

He smirked and chuckled for effect, he was rather, what, murderous? Then he just sat there, frozen, in shock, a deflated, bitter look about him.

"And it is not as if you will be having any children?" He looked at his mother, questioning her with his eyes. He was experiencing a child's like jealousy over his mommy, it felt like acid inside his gut, and he didn't like it, not one tiny bit. He knew and didn't care; he was behaving like a fool, for the third or was it fourth time today.

At this, a small gasps, throats clearing, and slight coughs were audible to his left and to his right. This was a day full of surprises. _So a little brother or sister, how embarrassing_, he thought, at his age, never mind his mother was just over forty.

He rolled his eyes; at least twice while he shook his head in denial, sighed at least once, and then rolled his shoulders for effect. Then he downed half of the enriched beer glass. The two witches were following each one of his moves with apprehension and some alarm. The tension could be felt all around them.

"So, let me understand, Hermione Granger will be my sister?"

"Correction, Granger-Malfoy," Hermione was glad to interject, even with filler trivia.

At this Greg turned pale; he really wanted to go back to sleep and pretend this day had never happened, "When did you marry Draco? I thought-." This was really, really bad; Draco, always Draco, his best friend, yet, his worse enemy, the proverbial snake in the grass, damned poisonous snake.

He was looking away from Hermione, his heart was beating disorderly, and, now, he was really sick; his face was green; his mouth felt bone dry; his stomach was rumbling; and he felt rather dislocated.

He must have looked so forlorn and ill, that Camellia behaved as if she was all worried, and that was when one of the extra heads popped at the right of the fur ball's neck. She put her paws on his chest and started licking his face with a lot of care, with two tongues at the same time.

Camellia had her feelers, and she could feel the emptiness and sadness inside of this handsome human. She wanted to keep him; he was large and made for a good warm bed.

"YaYYYY "? He screamed a loud scared yelp; as he sat back trying to get away from the monster. He was absolutely terrified. _Oh Merlin, now I sounded like a girl_, thought Greg, what a meeting, what a day, maybe it was a nightmare.

Hermione and his mother laughed and said nothing. Greg didn't want to ask, he was a little miffed. The two witches had naughtiness in their eyes and were having fun at his expense, and that much was clear to him! _Witches who needs them_, was this thought.

"No, no, he is married to someone else. I married one of Draco's cousins, from the French side of the family. He was 10 years older than us, a wind-whirl courtship, love at first sight." She chuckled and her eyes were dreamy, yet sad.

She was truly a goddess, the angry Greg recognized and once again his lower half was getting happy, darn. He did not want to like the _enemy, _competition at his own doorstep. But he had heard the 'was' and was hopeful once again.

"He looked exactly like Draco, perhaps a little taller; I always had a little crush on Draco. Did you know it? I later found out about his teenage crush on me, just sex, but love? Draco loved one of the golden-trio, and it wasn't me. He fell in love with Harry; they married two years ago."

She sounded deflated and plain sad. She didn't add, however, they had begged her to go in a triad, but she had been so angry at the betrayal, that she went away, and told everyone Draco had chosen Harry and vice versa. Her version was partially true but not entirely.

Harry had backed out, and begged her to reconsider, same with Draco, both decided either with her or nothing, but her mind was made. The day of their wedding was the worse day of her live, and she had drunk too much. She also didn't tell him that they both still begged her to come with them, not that was her secret. They should have told her the truth since day one, and she missed the dirty rats.

Greg's eyes opened like saucers, "Is Draco a ponce?" A killer look from Hermione, "I mean gay?" He was quick to correct himself. He could not believe it. What else today? _Had Hagrid married Ron Weasley_? Anything was possible and credible at this point. Nothing else could surprise him today. No wonder that Lucius refused to talk about "private family issues" since the last time he had seen Draco.

"Yes, he is. Do you have a problem with that?" Greg was starting to irritate her, first his mother, then his mother and her, then his mother and her father, then Draco, then Draco and Harry, what next? So much for cuteness and for talking more, she liked him better when he didn't say anything. He was a pest, imprudent, and a nuisance. He didn't even look that good anymore.

"No, of course not, I just wonder why he has not told me. He led me to believe he was, when, I wanted to know about, forget it, you were saying?" Greg had the feeling of grossly overstepping his boundaries.

"I guess, hmm, maybe he did not want to upset you." She really sounded upset. Good job, Goyle. The way he was heading, he could charm-off the Delores Umbridge's knickers, and that was a maybe.

"So what happened to your husband, excuse me for asking. Momm-mother had mentioned you were a widow." Greg wanted to get away from the dangerous subject, how had he forgotten she was a widow? He wasn't even thinking, and he was wading in murky waters, full of wizard-eating-witches.

"I was married for less than a year," her eyes were full of tears, her plump lips trembling in a pout, he wanted to hold her hand, to offer his shoulder in comfort, "Henri was hit with a delayed killing curse during the war. Yes, he was a Dark wizard, but not a Death Eater. He wasn't even fighting; just found himself in the middle of skirmish and caught it in the crossfire. We didn't know about it until near the end. He suddenly was unable to stand up; it was fast, it was incurable."

She stopped for a minute. She sat in a chair next to Greg's, and Irina sat next to her. Irina didn't let go of her hand, a fact noticed by Greg. Now, he was glad that his mother loved Hermione; he no longer minded sharing her love.

Her tears kept coming; she whipped them with the back of her hand. Picking up a clean linen napkin, Greg asked, "May I?" She shook her head affirmative.

Irina got up to look at a flower bush.

He gingerly cleaned her tears and smiled at her. He then tucked a curl that was almost inside her mouth; her stomach did a little flip at his smile, and to the feel of his fingers.

"Thanks," she said. He had let his fingers linger for a second on her cheek, and before he could move them, her hand covered the larger hand on her cheek. They sat like that for a short while, amiable companionship; maybe more than that, a close encounter of souls.

Her touch felt like cool water falling in parched land. It made him drunk with great feelings and a little lust; ok more than a little, a lot. He caught a glimpse of Irina looking in their direction, and he removed his hand with great alacrity; however, he didn't take his eyes away from her. "If you think, err, don't know, hmm, maybe it might be better to leave this for later?

Why had he moved his hand, it had felt perfect, he had nice hands, "No, no. As I was saying, Bill Weasley, he is a curse breaker, he uncovered the curse. He works with us, in the investigations 'agency. Murders, rapes, thefts, are often committed using old, forgotten curses. He found it to be an ancient dark course. It shuts the body down little by little, not painful, but terrible, nevertheless. We now think it was intentional, it is not the type of curse used in a battle. We are still investigating it." She sounded very sad.

She took a sip of Greg's beer thinking it was apple juice; it was only 9:20 AM. She spitted it out, and Irina gave Greg the dirtiest look. He just smirked. He had liked her familiarity to drink from his glass. He was careful to drink from the side where her lips touched, the side with a smear of a rose-colour-lip-cream. Oh, Merlin, some wizard was in big trouble. He could taste her flavor in the glass, and his little Greg twitched.

"Strong breakfast drink, not suited for me. I wanted his baby; he was the last of his line. It was right after our wedding; when we both decided to deposit our sperm and eggs at the new fertility clinic, the one owned by Blaise Zabini. It was Henri's idea; he liked new magical technology and was an investor's of Blaise's research. He lasted but a year, he died close to a year ago."

This just added to his confusion. _Eggs, sperm,_ Greg's eyes almost crossed, _were they talking about chickens_, _Henri had chickens_? He didn't want to sound foolish but wanted to ask.

"Chickens?" he heard himself wondering aloud. Non-stop feminine laughter filled the air, the fur-ball joined the ruckus running in circles and barking. The magic of laughter changed the mood in a second.

Greg turned a shade of purple, not realizing what was so funny. It suddenly downed on him, Hermione's eggs and Henri's sperm. Understanding, he joyfully joined the happy group, as did Kinzi, the house-elf who was holding the breakfast tray. The young house-elf started running and chasing after the mongrel. She was the youngest elf at the Manor, 14 years old and laughed just for the pleasure of laughing.

Greg was thinking, _chickens, chickens, baby chickens, life is fine_. And they all laughed until their stomachs hurt.

* * *

Next Chapter: More about Hermione, Harry and Draco and our maybe, couple.

I'd appreciate if you took a minute and appraise this re-vamped fiction.


	5. Too early to ask for her hand

JKR has it all, but I have my story and my brain.

This story is dedicated to Savva and Irmorena. They both loved Greg and have encouraged me to write. I like the redemption theme. I fills my heart with hope for our world.

**The last chapter**

The young house-elf started running and chasing after the mongrel. She was the youngest elf at the Manor, 14 years old and laughed just for the pleasure of laughing.

Greg was thinking, _chickens, chickens, baby chickens, life is fine_. And they all laughed until their stomachs hurt.

* * *

**Goyle Manor, July 2007**

**Is Hermione Pregnant? **

After they settled down, and once the laughter stopped, Greg decided to eat the breakfast he had ordered. Although, he had been home for a few days, he had not eaten much of anything. His appetite had finally opened, and he started with the fruit.

He offered Hermione a scone and daintily she turned down, "No thanks, I cannot eat another bite, I am still full from breakfast, but thanks anyway."

However, just as daintily, she steadily took little pieces of bacon and scone out his plate, without even a glance. He started adding compote to her scone, making small bites of eggs and bacon, and placing them within her fingers reach, in a neat line. She was eating them as fast as he was lining them up, just feeling her way-around with her fingers, totally oblivious.

Greg had to bite his lip not to smile, she was too precious. He caught glimpses of her bites, and his mate-down-under, as the old Australian Aborigine wizard called it, was extremely happy and wanting to meet her. Her lips opening just enough to put a piece of bacon in her waiting tongue were arousing him. _I am in big trouble_, he thought.

The fur ball, Camellia was her name, sat three feet away from him; at, what she estimated, a respectable, polite distance whilst keeping her eye balls fixed on him. After seeing the bacon and food quickly disappearing from the tray, Cam started a more active campaign, got a little closer, put her paw on top of his big foot and looked at him with adoring eyes; and for added effect a second head magically popped up. The effect made Greg jump backwards again.

At this, a second fit of silly laughter started again, "Greg, it is ok; she is Fluffy's spawn, the demon hound from Hogwarts. And please restrain yourself and don't ask the how, and just accept it as a know fact. The mother a Bichon, about 15 lbs, yes, everyone wonders the how. Oh well, you know what they say, 'when there is love, there is a way'; it does not matter if he was so big, and she was so small."

Hermione innocently remarked. Greg nearly choked on a piece of scone. _His mind was really deep in the gutter_. He was hooked, and he did not mind it a bit.

"No way," Greg said laughing, "It is physically impossible." _No, you are not too small, you are just perfect._ He wanted to tell her. No, not in this lifetime, he could not say that, although, it was true she was perfection, and, moreover, she was a little more roundish, fuller, gods, he loved the look.

"Nah," he re-stated, shaking his head.

"Exactly correct, we all think Hagrid has a deep-dark secret. Fluffy is now an _IT_, poor Hagrid, he cried for days after he made IT happened."

"Ouch," said Greg, and Fluffy Jr. barked happily while running away with the couple bacon slices that had fallen to the ground when Greg had jumped back.

After breakfast, Greg wanted to resume the prior conversation, the one about Hermione having a baby.

"So I assume that you must have saved the components, ingredients, whatever, to make a baby. I read about something like that at the library, I was confused with the terms."

"At the Azkaban library, do you like to read?" Hermione interjected.

"Yes, he now has a degree in Magical law and also a healer's diploma. He is now a veritable library resident, I told you that you would not recognize him," Irina proudly remarked.

Greg shrugged his shoulders, "Nah, I was just bored, and I guess I found my inner-bookworm." And with this, he winked at Hermione over his juice.

She blushed and wondered, w_ho is this wizard_, _and what is going with you Hermione Granger-Malfoy, your husband is been dead but a year, are you falling in lust_?

Then she remembered that Henri, her wonderfully romantic French lover, had told her, '_Amour, ma petite sorcière, you must marry again, soon. I will not rest until you have someone to love you again. I am afraid to leave you alone. There is my cousin Ferdinand; I see your eyes, a pompous fool. I wish Draco was not married. Well, if he had not married, I would not have met you at the wedding. He still loves you, you know that right. He has told me the truth. You were mad because they were lovers behind your back, and they had talked about marriage before they talked to you. It is a bit unfair, but I am glad for it._'

Her eyes were all sad; Greg could see that he had made her recall some sad memory. He was quiet.

Hermione could still hear Henri, '_Mais, c'est possible, oui? Draco told me how he couldn't decide between his two great loves, Harry and you. When he decided you were then one, you told them no. They did not want to marry without you, but you told them you also had a lover, which was a lie. Have you thought of being with them? It would make me happy_."

Henri knew of her loneliness. Of her nightmares and the horrors she had lived. He worried about her until the day that he died. He had even approached Harry and Draco, who were now actively pursuing her. Nope, she would not be a third wheel; although both claimed they were afraid to insist before. She wanted to be the centre of the wizards' love, and Harry and Draco loved each other best, or that was her assessment. Hermione was not always right.

She was feeling strangely attracted to Greg. She would look at him carefully, trying to find the goon, the gorilla that he used to be. She could not find him anywhere. His lips were nicer than Henri's and Draco's; and his large and slender hands were just to die for; she loved hands and feet, a stupid fetish. His eyes, she had never noticed his deep aqua-green, somehow she thought they were blue.

Hmm, she must be experiencing the famous _horny-hormones_ that Luna kept talking about, the ones that Ginny mentioned as well. "Hermione, so how is this going to work? Expecting three babies, is going to be hell, in a few weeks, if not right away, you will want a wizard near your side." Of course, all kind of unsolicited advice kept flowing her way, and by now she was an expert; if that was the case, her hormones were starting to act up, better they were raging. She had bought sexy lingerie and was going to invite the boys for dinner this weekend. However, she was no longer sure.

"Hermione was the sip of 'apple juice' too much, are you still here with us?" Greg asked her with a smile, pointing at his empty beer glass.

"Son, that remark was beneath you, I can see that I have a job cut out for me. The years away from nice witches, have done nothing to improve your manners. Humph." Irina was wondering what on earth was wrong with Greg.

Both Hermione and Greg smiled in complicity whilst keeping their eyes on each other. Greg just smirked to his Mom and gave her a small shrug. _What can you do? _

"Yes, err, not, it was not, forget it, I seem to be distracted," Yes, she was entirely bedazzled and tried to figure out, what was going on here? Was it was getting very warm, and what was that smell of mint and citrus-something coming from?

"Ah yes, the clinic made several embryos, fertilized eggs at their lab."

"Babies made without shagging you, did you miss the best part? Not me, where is the fun about that?" Greg wondered aloud, and immediately regretted it, what on earth was his problem; he looked around for a place where to hide. He had just voiced his concern about shagging in front his mother, to his solicitor, no way.

Hermione giggled like a firstie and her face turned bright red. His mother huffed and cleared her throat, utterly mystified.

"Gregory Ivanovich Goyle, ladies here, where are your manners? I apologize for the miscreant, he has forgotten to keep his opinions to himself, and I don't recognize him. Where did he learn such dreadfully appalling manners? And quit rolling your eyes, just before we reached you, I was telling Hermione what a nice wizard you were. Maybe I made a mistake, now you won't have a chance to take this lovely young witch out for dinner, or what not."

The ever mother-matchmaker, he knew she was being playful; however, he needed her help like a hole in his head.

Greg then remembered the unwritten pureblood rule, no sex discussed at any time of the day or night in front of the LADIES. How could he already be implying that he wanted to shag her? What a git, King Prat was his new title. '_Lord Goyle the Prat._' At this rate, he would be eighty before he got to shag again, certainly not Hermione, what must she be thinking of him?

Now it was his turn to blush bright red, he could not even look at her in the eye. Not after his mother's, no more mommy, efforts to what? Matchmaking or what? He felt as a fish out of the water. He had been right years ago when he compared the two witches, they were both scary, he was not match for them. He was a babe in the woods full of fierce witches. He decided to ignore his latest stupid remark and tread right along.

"So what happened? Are you carrying a baby; I mean a boy or a girl?" Could he even speak real sentences? _Carrying a monkey? This day was good, and bad, ok not bad because he was sitting close to her, right_? Greg kept recriminating himself, he was way too anxious.

"Neither, well, both one of each, and then another," she blubbered all at once. _Hermione, you are tripping all over yourself, good thing you are not at court. Your client would be doomed, and they would be bringing the Dementors back._ Hermione was also wondering what was going on with her. He was not the first wizard she had been around since Henri died.

_This was one strange conversation, maybe I have been inside much too long_. Greg was at a lost about all his misunderstanding and wondering if his years of learning had all been for naught, all a waste of time. He sounded like an imbecile to his own ears.

"Let me explain, He died one year ago. I wanted to have a baby; you know 26 and all, I want his baby both because I love him, and because he was the last of his family. I promised his mother, she is alive, that whenever I was ready, I would try. Then there is the fact that I have inherited a very large state, and I think it should go back to the Malfoy family, eventually."

"That is a noble reason to have a baby, but you will have to do it alone. Or are you planning to go to France?" His voice had a sad undertone. He just found her, and now she would be gone.

"No, well not all the time, although I am sure that we will spend summers in France. Perhaps, I will have to reconsider if I ever remarry. But that is not here at the moment, unless, someone like y—ehem." Hermione paused before spewing silly notions, what was she about to say? Was she going to say if someone like you would marry me? Was she being a teenager or what?

"Now that Draco and Harry are married, they both want children. Blaise has made it possible by means of experimented new techniques; modified with a combination of magic and science. I am not 100% up to speed in genetics. I understand that he uses modified old spells as well. They were dark spells which made a witch or a human female carry a child from another couple." She looked at him to assess his reactions.

In the old times, it was done in order to substitute the paternity by using something akin to modification of DNA. It actually changed the father by changing what was called the 'essence', which sometimes resulted in deformed children, or very warped offspring." She paused to sip her water, and to smile to him. His eyes were semi-closed, and he had moved closer to her.

"Today, he can change the genetic-make of a fertilized ovum, an embryo, and swap some individual targeted trades with the ones from another male, or males. It is some sort of genetic manipulation. In his technique, the fertilization always needs the female component, the egg, and the sperm (s), of course. Blaise tried some new modifications, at this point only possible with magic. So he was able modify two embryos to concurrently have Harry's and Draco's trades, selective of course. So the baby would be a Granger because I am the mother, but most of my genes are stripped out, and Draco and Harry's are instead put it place. As I said, that is how I understand it, and might not be reliable at all." She twisted her mouth sideways, and bit her lip.

She laughed at his puzzled look, _Merlin he was divine_. She hoped none of the single witches saw him anytime soon. She made a mental note to conduct the appointments either here or at her home. All she had to say was that she was going to see her client, Greg Goyle, and surely she would have not takers.

"But why three, I don't get that part. Actually, I understand very little of it." Greg was forthcoming.

"So now why not twins? Hmm, I am carrying triplets, or better put, three babies. Two of theirs, well, no, you are right is confusing. Let's try again. So I am carrying, a little Hermione- Henri Malfoy boy; one little Potter-Draco boy, the boy has very little of me, just the starter; and one Hermione- Draco-Potter's little girl the same. Before you say anything, three is a lot, but Blaise's magic process is designed to make it easier on me. It has been proven not to be harmful, makes the pregnancy take less than half the time." She drank more juice, it was very warm, and sitting close to Greg was not doing anything for the heat-flashes.

"The downside is the need for frequent checkups, special nutrients, and other specialized care. In a couple months might have to move with my father, or maybe with Tante Cissy."

At this last statement, Greg's eyebrow raised, he would ask later, mental note. He did not like the idea, what if Draco and Harry decided to strongly pursue the triad. With her living at the Manor they would have an advantage. He would talk to Mother about this. He didn't realize his own jealousy. It had snuck up upon him.

"The combined costs for this pregnancy have run very high; it would be not within everyone's reach. I think we are paying Blaise close to a half million galleons. I am two months pregnant, so it is about 4.5 months of a regular pregnancy. I am not fat," she said patting her showing, a somehow large, roundish belly, "I am just a bit pregnant."

At that both witches laughed, and Greg stared at them as if they had grown an extra head. What was the joke? On the other hand, pregnancy was the reason for the fuller look, hmm, he liked it. He had just decided that pregnant Hermione was just beautiful, and if up to him, something rather desirable.

"The babies will be taken by the equivalent of a magic caesarean operation. It should be all painless. In simple terms, I will be a mother in around two and one half months. I am very excited. I will be helping the happy couple with my children. And I am not having the baby alone, Draco and Harry will be helping, we are working out the schedule. Of course, I will need to spend some time in France; Henri's mother is beside herself with happiness. I fear Henri Jr. will be raised more spoiled than Draco."

Greg shook his head in disagreement, "not possible." They both smiled at that.

The morning had almost gone; Irina had excused herself over an hour ago. Greg and Hermione, talked and laughed, between chatting eating and laughing, they even walked along the gardens with Hermione's arm above his elbow.

He had helped her up, and offered his arm, placing her hand in his arm. Her hand felt as it belonged there with him. Camellia running in front of them was jumping up several feet trying to catch birds, butterflies, whatever moved.

Hermione would tell her no, the moment when heads started popping. After a while, he covered her hand with his and linked fingers. It was natural; neither gave it a lot of thought, it felt just right.

It was the best day he ever remembered since he was a child, before all the nasty things started happening at the Crabbe's, then at Hogwarts. He was sure he was in love; he had been in love with her forever, even when he was seeing Millicent. Then he loved her as one loves a dream, today he was falling in love with a real witch.

After their stroll, they sat back to talk some more. They had read so many of the same books that probably could talk about them for hours. He had helped her to sit down, and left his hand linked with hers. He the placed them over the side of his tight, while absently rubbed the side of her hand with his thumb. After a minute he was not even thinking, she also appeared to be a little out-there.

Soon, it was time for Hermione to go, "Greg, I am sorry; I wish I could stay longer, I have really enjoyed your company. I have not had such a nice time since, you know. It is too bad that I have court this afternoon, and please don't stand up, I will apparate right from here."

Before he let go of her hand, with his eyes closed, he kissed the back two times, and then brought it to his cheek and rubbed it against it, reveling in the feeling. Her hand was so soft and so tiny. What he really wanted was to kiss her lips, to feel her body against his. He was not complaining, just a few hours ago this would have been an unattainable dream. Then he let go of her with great regret, he was wondering if today would be too soon to ask for her hand in marriage. _Yeah, it probably was, that was too bad_, he thought.

She bent down to get Camellia, she felt lightheaded, yet gloriously happy. She felt his lips still grazing her hand, his shaved skin upon it.

Greg astutely said," Leave Cam here, maybe you can get her later?" He wanted to make sure she came back. Besides the crazy mongrel was growing on him, she was too much fun. Camellia came running and plopped next to him, it was a little spooky, and she seemed to have understood him.

"That would be great, I will be back around 15:30, and maybe we can have the interview we were to have this morning?" At this they both chuckled. _Sure we will be working really hard_; they both had the same thought.

"Let's have tea and a shrimp salad, maybe also some fruit?" proposed Greg, "we can talk about what I should be doing while we take a long walk?"

"That sounds just great," still hiding her face away from him, she knew she was flushed and really, she could not look at him, her mind was going to forbidden places. Must be the hormones, he was looking absolutely shaggable. She would ask Luna to come by, or maybe talk to Fleur, a witch's advice would be welcome, and she could not talk to Irina or Tante Cissa.

Before leaving, and before she lost her nerve, she finally looked at him; his eyes were fixed on her, all dreamy. They were heavy with lust.

She just went for and asked," Greg, how about joining us for supper tonight? My dad is cooking Couscous for all of us; he makes one mean grilled rack of lamb, and chicken couscous with vegetables. I made a fresh endive salad, chocolate and cappuccino mousse with strawberry sauce, and fresh rosehip-mint-iced-tea. Irina and dad are celebrating their first anniversary of going together, and their coming wedding."

He forgot about his mother marrying her father, if he became Hermione's big brother, how was he ever going to shag his sister? He knew that was what he wanted, the more he looked at her the more he wanted her, pregnant or not. By now, he was glad she had told him to stay put. He was not going to be able to stand up to say goodbye; he was so randy that he was certain anyone would be able to see _it, the little man-under_.

His robe was folded behind him, it had gotten too warm. He was not wearing underwear, and the sweats were really baggy. He could see a definite tent under the breakfast table, thanks goodness, he was not longer stretched ib the lounging chair. How was he to survive more hours with her?

Greg was getting a headache and he needed to nap and shag, not necessarily in that order.

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Note: Drop a review; let me know if you are enjoying it. I am not sure about romantic sagas. It is hard to keep the serious demeanor necessary for it.

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**Nex Chapter 4: Sweet and spicy snogs**


	6. Waiting for Hermione

**Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing.**

**JKR owns the entire HP lot.**

**Savva there you go my darling. And to Irmorena there you go. Greg once again, with a few changes, I still have a couple surprises up my sleeve.**

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**Made plans not panning out**

Hermione had arrived at the office in a cloud, the carpet felt unusually plush. She loved their office right in the middle of Diagon Alley. They had bought a failing business; it was rumored to have been a house of ill repute long ago, and Adrian's father knew the former owner.

The building was dilapidated and had many curses eating it up. Bill recommended tearing it down because you could never be sure. The new building's architecture was a mix of Victorian, mostly the façade, and modern offices with a Victorian touch. It was seven stories high, and had all muggle utilities, stolen from the city works. All their land was Unplotted and it was the only way. She loved the place, the offices of **_GranPucNot and eYe._**

In her office, there were three portraits hanging. One was Henri, "Alo petite sorcière, you look appy." She smiled and blew him a kiss, he send her one was well. "Flirt." He laughed.

"Mione what appened, you look very appy." Fleur caught her one second after. They sat in the redecorated meeting area. Hermione sat in one of the reclining seats, and Fleur brought her an aromatic tea.

After telling her what happened, "Fleur could this be the first incident of the "hormone" thingy?" They heard two chuckles coming from the portraits.

Fleur had confirmed, it was the hormonal thing, but of course being French, she had to add her two sickles' worth.

"Ermione, 'ow eciting, it is love at firgst sight. Enri was divine, but'e is gone, and 'e told each one of us, 'e wanted you to be magried within a year. It's been longerg than a yearg, I saw 'is picture, and Greg's very andsome. Oui?"

Molly came in, she now dressed in tailored robes, with the Tahitian pearls Hermione had given her a couple Christmas ago, and she never took them off. She wanted to show Hermione the three jumpers that she had knitted for the babies; Molly was the godmother for Harry's daughter. Three babies to be brought to work, so she hoped, she was quite excited.

And with Hermione's baby, two more grandchildren, really three, "Who would imagine that Muggle magic is so strong." On Fleur and Hermione's rolling eyes, she corrected, "Okay, yes, I know it is not really magic, but soon we will not be needed to have babies...humph, men having babies." She moved her head as if to clear from an offensive image.

She, stood up, stood closer and went behind Hermione's seat to massage her shoulders.

"Just look at Harry and Draco, not even a witch in their union, triads can be powerful, did you know? The two of them come around all the time. You need a wizard. They are lovely, at least Harry is. The babies need a family." At the last word she raised her head just a little, in affirmation.

The three of them broke out in laughter; Molly was not one to be subtle. She would not go down easy in her new campaign, _'Let's get Hermione married'_. Her motto always the same, take no prisoners and do what it takes.

They talked for a while, "Hermione, Arthur and I were talking, dear, you need to get married again. You will need support with your son, Henri talked to us. Ok, if not the aforementioned, then Charlie. He isn't married yet; you could learn to love him;" yup, one more of Molly's endless chain of unsolicited advice.

"No need Molly, beside Charlie is spoken for; I just cannot tell you the name of the witch." It was not true, Charlie had asked her out more than once, but she was burnt with the Weasleys, even with Charlie. She had gone through just about all of them, Charlie not an exception, and she remembered each of the heartbreaks, yes, even with Bill, during the year he was separated.

Bill was ready to divorce her after the trip to France. Yes, sure, it couldn't happen, not after getting her pregnant for a third time. "It was the Veela thing, it wasn't my fault." And Charlie invited her to go and visit him, and left her waiting at the Portkey arrival. He had left Romania because he was afraid that she might not like the place. Ugh, they were horrible wizards. It was Molly's fault for coddling the ginger fools way too much; each one of them was spoiled rotten, and expected witches to do their wills. Too bad, she would have loved to be Molly's real daughter.

"Do tell, who is the lucky wizard?" Molly sounded dejected. She wanted Hermione as a 'daughter-in-law', or as a daughter, she loved Hermione.

Whenever Bill was having problems with Fleur her heart rejoiced. She practically had Bill's second wedding all planned and ready to go, nothing against Fleur, she was just too bossy. It almost happened, that year, right before Henri, but the fool had to go and get Fleur pregnant again, and she lost the baby. By the time there wasn't a baby; Henri had married her, fool, fool, fool. It made Molly sick, she could dream of the grandchildren, a Hermione-Weasley, curly-red-hair and all those brains.

Ron, what a disappointment married to Lavender after betraying Hermione. Their babies were rather slow, what was that boy thinking about it, having a chance to Hermione and destroying it?

Almost as disappointed as she was with Ginny, failed to get Harry, after Harry found her with three wizards, groupies at that. No wonder that he no longer cared for witches. Ginny had been lucky marrying Neville. Nice wizard, true he wasn't Harry, nevertheless, from a fine family, great looks, and Hogwarts Headmaster, but not Harry, thought Molly. Her children were imbeciles. If Fred had lived, he might have been the one.

She was always calculating how to make it work. It was her genius and that was the reason she was so good at her job. She had been brought knowing all the pureblood etiquette, the dos and the don'ts, a skill highly needed in their growing business, a real PR witch. She was just desperate to have Hermione as her daughter, six sons, and not one could catch her. She knew about Charlie and his fiasco. The coward could deal with Dragons, but had blown it with Hermione. "Ahh," She sighted loudly and Hermione giggled.

"Goyle, Greg Goyle, and before you say anything, please, Molly would you check the photo his mother took this morning?" Hermione had left the room to get her hand bag. Molly stood up from the chair at Hermione's office small receiving room.

Molly's smile was heart warming, "Better be glad I am happily married, or I would fight you for this wizard. His smile is so warm; you could easily forget he was a Death Eater. All I remember is a young gorilla, some cave Wizard, a troglodyte, aha, he was one. They don't even look related, and, yes, he will do. He looks a lot like his handsome half-brother, Francois, what a handsome boy he was. He cuts a sharp figure, and those eyes. He is tall and big, and you would look well next to him."

Her eyes were seeing Hermione in her white dress, and she was her honorary mother, she would get to help her get dress, lovely, really lovely.

You could see that Molly was already planning the wedding; Fleur winked an eye to Hermione, who bit her lips not to laugh.

"Do they have a large social circle? It would be better not to wait until the children are born; you have known him since Hogwarts A spouse when you are having the children would be helpful. Hmm, I need to go and check my calendar for a few open dates, a project I am working for Bill, later loves." Molly left, gone to start the wedding planning, no doubt. Fleur and Hermione burst out in laughter.

Yes, it was easy being with Greg. She had never been a fan of 'love at first sight', and besides this was not the case. She had known Greg since she was eleven; true, he wasn't the same wizard, even his physical appearance, and Molly was right, it wasn't that sudden…She had known since she was eleven. They had known each other forever. Based on that, it was all perfectly acceptable.

Hermione wasn't able to get away from court until 3:30; she wasn't doing well, the idea of a very tall wizard, naked and next to her was make daydreams into something unsuited for a court day. She had decided to shag Greg. He was nice, great looking and available. And he wasn't Harry, Draco, or a Weasley. She had been ready to give in to the traitor-duo, and Greg had come to the rescue. Her dark yummy knight had rescued her from their bed.

Since Lucius had arrived and had actually seen the happy couple, he had doubled his campaign to get Draco married with the witch. Narcissa, his general, had happily joined in the conspiracy. She loved Harry, he was a handsome wizard, she was married but not blind. However, Harry was a wizard and Hermione was a witch, and Narcissa had waited all her life for a daughter. This was unfair, time to right wrongs.

Hermione wasn't a dummy, and seeing Draco at her home the night that Lucius arrived, made her more than a little suspicious. She had just gone to walk Camilla, and he had full floo access. Damn, she nearly shagged him upon finding him naked on her bed, hot, hard and dripping, hot damn, with his legs barely spread and his hand—.

It was a good thing Irina dropped by right at that moment, when she had a leg on the bed. Irina wanted to tell her Greg was at home. I gave her enough cooling time to kick the traitor out, but of course, it was time for the blond traitor to face Daddy Malfoy and baby Draco had run to get his witch. The knowledge downed on her and made her boiling mad.

Now she was glad she had done so. Greg was a witch's wizard, he would not share with anyone else, and his hair was auburn, not ginger, even better.

**Greg waits and despairs.**

Greg had asked his mother to go and buy him Muggle clothes for the evening. It took her a couple of hours, and she was back before two.

He ran to get ready; he didn't want to miss one second with her. He put on the linen trousers, a nice silk and organic cotton blend shirt. The narrow white and charcoal stripes summer knit, matched the charcoal of the trousers. He looked in the mirror, once, twice, thrice, ok, it looked acceptable.

He was rather stressed; he wanted to make a good impression. He found cologne that Francois, his older brother, had given to him. It was specially made for Greg in a small perfumery in the Alsace, and he used it sparingly. He tied his hair and then let it down, and tied it again. He even shaved again; the little kitten's skin was very tender, and he didn't want to scratch her face if they snogged.

Greg was so frazzled that he didn't get hard thinking about a snog, at least no right that second. Camilla sat in the bed staring at him. She founded him fascinating. The human loved her witch. He really did, and he was so funny. If only he would not call her witch Kitten, she was not a cat, most certainly not. Just thinking of her human as a cat made her growl.

Greg just had noticed that his wardrobe was full of new robes, nice shirts, and trousers. That was what his bossy elf was trying to tell him. He planned what to wear tomorrow when he would take her out for lunch, and maybe dinner.

He looked around his room. He felt lost in here after the years in Azkaban. His mother had kept the room as when he was here. She had changed the heavy, dark drapery to a crisp taffeta-silver-silk drapes, matching the new bed spread. In the low round table by the fire, he organized the pictures his mother took in the morning; he sat in the large sofa in front of the fire, and touched her picture lightly. How could someone be this pretty? She was so small, he wondered if he could actually fit. He chuckled as a wave of lust set in. He wasn't going to make it if he didn't take care of himself.

Looking at her photo, he remembered her fragrance, the feel of her skin, and he opened his trousers bindings, oh. He once remembered her feel and imagined her sweet pussy's taste, and his hand tightened around it his hungry weapon.

He stood up, cleaned up, stretched, went by the well appointed and incredibly luxurious bathroom all renovated for him, the place was several times larger than his cell at hell. He returned to his room and looked at his choices. Since, they were going to Floo to Hermione's father; he readied a light charcoal jumper, really an anorak, with a trendy hood and a half zipper, and wore an elegant silk summer robe over. As for his hair, he decided not to braid it and just to tie it with a leather hide strip; one he had made himself with wrought metal wire.

He took off his earring, to make his mother happy, or was it to make a good impression to his future father-in-law. Not for a second, had it struck him as odd, to think of Hermione's father as his future father-in-law; he was counting his virtual chickens before their virtual hatching.

He went back to the family drawing room, and sat by the Floo. His mother was back, she was knitting a few entire layettes, a skill acquired when she was a very young witch. Her beautiful mama, rest in peace, had taught her well.

He stuck to his dragon hide boots and sat to read and to wait. Each ten minutes or so, he would look at his pocket watch, and by quarter to three, he felt very anxious. He did not even know what book he was reading, he smirked when he noticed he had the book opened to a blank page. Earlier, he had the book upside down, ugh, he hated to feel like this.

It was worse than waiting for his sentencing at the Wizengamot. What was happening, what if something happened to her?

He kept going over every detail of this morning, and he tried to analyze his feelings about Granger, Hermione, he corrected himself. Irina had not said a word; something about Greg's demeanor prevented her from asking; he wasn't forthcoming.

"Mum, do you think I should change, maybe wear formal clothes for dinner time? Hermione did not say, and you told me it was casual, I don't feel right dressed like this. Are you sure this is right?" Asked Greg for the fifth, or was it the sixth time?

"Greg, darling, I have told you are fine. We will be eating outside, the weather will be nice this evening, Robert might be dressed in jeans, those blue trousers muggles wear." She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Ah, you don't like him wearing those muggle clothes." Greg checked his mother's face carefully, checking for signs.

"No, it is not that, I actually think he looks, err, and how does Hermione say, ah, yes, hot? He looks hot, and I would prefer that he would not wear them when we go out, makes him too attractive to every other female within sight, I am not imagining it. Narcissa is amongst the ones who commented on his looks. All the witches look at him."

Greg noticed his mother's face was looking flushed and a little crossed. His mommy saying a man looked hot; he visibly shuddered. This made Irina break into a huge smile. She moved closer to Greg, and indicated for him to lay the head on the pillow on her lap.

"Greg, does my loving Robert make you uncomfortable? I have never been this happy in my life, except when I had you, and you were a little boy, and same with Ephraim, I loved my boys then and even now. I would give anything for Ephraim to be alive. I miss him so, never stopped." She was rubbing Greg's forehead in tiny circles.

"With Robert is a different kind of happy, I feel loved by somebody closer to me in age, your father was kind, and wizards age so different that he didn't look that old, not like Dumbledore, that was because his ridiculous beard. However my husband was over 107 years old when I married him, it was hard, he was older than my own father by more than seventy years, even if he still looked on his late sixties, but still, I was barely fifteen." Greg pictured Hermione at fifteen married to the image of his father and felt deep compassion for his mother. He held her trembling hand.

"I was not miserable, but it was difficult, do you understand, my dear son? Please don't begrudge me a chance for happiness, I had my share of tragedy, and the last years alone have been very hard." She was looking at her son imploring him to understand and accept.

"Robert is a wonderful man, Hermione takes after him, the intellectual mind, wanting to help everyone, he has a gentle yet protective nature; he is all I have wished for. I am in love with him and he makes me happy and protected, I love him with a, err, phys, err, passionate, mature love." She blushed just at a memory of last weekend, right before Greg came.

She nearly told him that Robert made her sex crazed; and she just couldn't have enough of him. Only Rabastan had a made her so aware of her body, of her needs, both were creative and a little wild. And both had introduced her to pleasures she did not even know existed. Well, she had also desired Francois, but that was different, so different it was less about sexuality, he had been her first real love. Ah, she wouldn't have minded if she could have the freedom to have them all.

"Mother, I hate to ask you, but are you pregnant?" Although Greg was anxious to know, he didn't want to hear the answer. Why had he asked?

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Next: Big revelations. Greg's mother reveals hidden secrets about her tortured past.

Thanks for those who have taken their time to review.


	7. Revelations and Realities

Thanks to all the readers who have reviewed.

**Revelations, and a hidden secret.**

"Mother, I hate to ask you, but are you pregnant?" Greg wanted to know, but did not want to hear the answer. He felt at easy with his head on his mother's lap. He had missed her affection, poor his mother, he had contributed to her tragic life. Some way to show his love for her.

Irina was caught-off guard but not surprised, she had seen his earlier reaction, "No, not now, but as soon as we are married, and well, it could even have happened, but no, yes. I'm not sure, but I would like to try. I miss Ephraim, I always wanted more children. And there is no better time than the present." She decided there wasn't a better time than the present to come out clean.

"Son—," Irina hesitated, and Greg looked up to her.

"Mommy, tell me whatever, I will not be upset," he patted her hand, there it was, the baby announcement.

"I have a dark confession to make. Ephraim and you, my two sons, you are not your father's. And he wanted me to get used to him and thought I was a little too young for him. He was ashamed of coming back to England with a child bride. It wasn't easy for him. And it happened, your father lost his ability to touch me shortly after our marriage, you know, an injury, it happened two months after we married. So he never did, you know with me. I think the Dark Lord tortured him because your father didn't want François to take the Dark Mark."

Greg sat up, and held his mother's hand after handing her a handkerchief from his pocket.

"So, he knew I wanted children, and in the uncertain times, he wanted a larger family. He talked to me and asked if I would be willing, and I trusted him. One day, he brought 'somebody' to me, the room was dark. We said nothing to each other, and I gave the stranger my innocence. It happened for a while, until I became pregnant with you. I must tell you, you were conceived during an act of love, the love we had for one another. Francois was my mystery lover, he was my first love, and I knew it was him by the third time. Remember, he was only eighteen, and I was not yet sixteen."

Greg grinned, Francois was his father, and it made him glad. His parents had been incredibly young. His father had been nearly a decade younger than he was now.

"Later, my husband, Lord Goyle, knew how much I wanted another child, and asked me to accept your half-brother, Francois as the father. Who later wanted to marry me after your father had died. That was when I told Francois that I did not love him like that. He confessed he was the man in the dark, as if I had not figured it out." She started crying again.

"I think he took unnecessary risks at the last battle to prove he had courage. Sadly, I had lied, I did love him; he was my first love. The problem was that I am one of those bad witches who can love more than one wizard, with all my heart. I was ashamed of my feelings. Besides, I was already in love with Ephraim's father when we made him; both you and Ephraim were made during acts of deep love."

She looked down at Greg, who held her hand. Greg thought he should be asking her something. She had made a statement that didn't sound right, but which. His current state of semi-arousal waiting for the sweet kitten was messing his mind.

"You do know the Dark Lord made me take lovers, to punish my husband, and it was one more reason to be ashamed. I felt Francois did not deserve a tainted witch as his wife, I was a fool. I should have married him. I regret it daily. If I had, he might be alive. "Irina wanted to come out clean, but it was difficult. She hoped Greg would ask the 'correct' question. He didn't.

"Sweetheart, can you imagine how hard is to interact with those Wizards today, the ones who bedded me? I was not the only wife who was forced, many of us were. My shame doesn't end there; the shame was us having to bed the monster, or perform for him while Bellatrix watched and raged afterwards."

Her voice was flat, and it made Greg mad at himself for having taking the Dark Mark, for his following such a monstrous being, a leader that abused and tortured his loyal followers. How could had he been so blind.

"Mother, how can I criticize you, you have the right to love, and you were just a little older than I am now when you had my brother. I am sorry for Francois, I thought of him more like a father than a brother, and I do miss Ephraim. The Dark Lord was a sick wizard, it wasn't your fault, neither were the other wizards at fault." They did not cry but held their hands in love and support.

Greg looked at his young mother with different eyes. Everyone had suffered, but his mother more than many, a child-bride, being passed from one Death Eater to another, because Voldemort gave her as a reward for work well done. And after her husband died, she had no protection, because Francois was another pawn. Okay, if Granger made her happy, so let it be.

"I don't know how long before Hermione comes here, so I will tell you, I do want another child, not because I want to replace you, just because I love children, and Robert feels the same way. Biologically, I was told, I have the body and organs of a mid to late twenties Muggle woman. I had an examination for Robert's peace of mind, at a Muggle center. They told me I am a healthy late twenties female; and that my body and hormones are in order; I can have children." Her face locked up and turned cold all of a sudden.

"Ok, darling, be good, I am going to walk the little fur-ball, she is begging to go out." She got up with alacrity, kissed his forehead, and left.

He wondered if Irina was already pregnant, she was hiding something, and he could tell. She appeared on the verge of saying something, but instead of saying anymore, she was curt and left. Yes, his mother was one scary strong witch, and he loved her strength. Something she had said made him wonder, but he couldn't figure out what. She had waited for questions, for him to say what? It was very important, but what was 'it'? He sunk in the plush sofa, right in front of the main Floo to wait.

**Hermione, hugs, house-elves, and snogs.**

He must have dozed off for a few minutes, because his mother and Camellia were back, and the tiny-toad was barking by Greg's ears, three heads at once. Her barks made him a little deaf, yet happy, especially when she went to sit by the floo and waited, all heads panting and expecting, and her tail furiously shaking. No idea how the mongrel knew, but in less than two minutes, who should appear but Hermione.

His heart did a little irregular thing, some kind of flip-flop, and he had to restrain himself from running to hug her. Well, that was until he saw she was loaded with things, and taking a cue, he ran, and took all the bundles, put them in a couch, and ran back, and yup, he hugged her.

Of course Hermione, hugged him back, and both kissed each other's cheeks, one cheek, and then the other. Then with same alacrity, she let go so she could pick up the little fur ball. "Granger, excuse me, Hermione, you should not be picking her up, she is one little fat ball, you might hurt the, err, the baby chicks."

And that broke the ice; both laughed, and held hands walking towards the family drawing room where tea was waiting. The day had turned a little chilly, and Greg had decided inside was nicer; Camellia had been walking all afternoon long.

He made her seat in a long divan, and he moved a foot stool next to Hermione and sat on it. He called for the tea, which was brought by four, not six of the elves lead by Kimmy the oldest of the elves. His eyebrow went up questioning this strange entourage; each was carrying one or two things. If finally downed on him, they wanted to see him with Hermione; he had never before had a witch at the house not even Millicent.

All the nosy creatures stood up, pretending to be on call, a few giggles here and there. Greg was not even a little annoyed, Hermione had figured it out, looking at the small expectant faces, and she glanced at Greg who just smirked back and shook his head, "Nosy, they are being nosy." He whispered, and they both chuckled.

"You can all go, if I need something I will call one of you," sorrowfully one by one the elves left, after four pops, "whoever is still around needs to go," two more pops, and they were finally left alone.

"I guess you have not had personal visitors since you have arrived?" asked Hermione not wanting an answer that might upset her. She wanted this wizard. Maybe he was dating a Slytherin she didn't know. She should have asked Daphne, or not. Better keep Greg her secret, it paid to be smart/

"You are the first, besides my mother's lady friends. Lucius and Rabastan will be coming tomorrow. And Draco in the evening, with his friend, I guess with Harry?" He smiled, still not at ease with the idea.

"Sorry that I am so late, court was late and there were delays, something must have happened at Azkaban. A lot of activity, Harry tried to find out; however, it is close-hold." She ignored his last remark.

"No need to excuse, I am glad to see you here, I was getting a little concerned that you might have forgotten about our tea, err, our meeting." Greg had flushed at his faux-pass.

He was uncertain that today was real, and perhaps he was imaging it all. Today felt as a dream, a wonderful dream to be sure. During his life he had known too much violence, broken wizards, broken lives, and the dark. The invasive, pervasive dark, made even darker by Azkaban. A place where he had not felt the warmth of the sun for years, for security reasons, he was told.

The last years wasted, he spent his adult life locked away in that forsaken island, where hope was but a concept, reforms or not, he had lost the rights to the warmth and closeness of a good witch. And just upon his return, this; this was a gift from the old gods, he was sure of that, it was Karma. Karma, right, he must see Draco.

Greg never accounted for all the good things he had done in Azkaban; namely, reading to old wizards who were practically blind; talking to young fathers; sitting with the sick; being a son to many; and always trying to change and help others.

Of course, there were those he could not abide, Crabbe Sr., McNair, and the unrepentant; those who were still corrupting all those who would listen. For them, he wished there were still Dementors, and he had unwisely said it more than once. He disliked them for their role in damaging so many lives, including his own, and the life of his very broken friend, Vince.

"Greg, are you here, am I boring you?" Hermione touched his arm, just being playful.

He smiled and said, "Nope, it is just hard to get used to so much beauty and good things," he did not dare to look at her in the eye.

"So what are you planning to do? A healer, is a possibility you must explore, they are needed, or something using your magic, or the law?" She heard his remark and ignored it for now.

"I was going to ask you, Vince, you remember him?" he paused and looked at her, suddenly remembering how Vince went down, and he realized his terrible mistake. Hermione's eyes took a far away look, a sad face, much older, one who has seen too much. Tears were escaping her eyes.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to make you upset, I just want-." He stretched his hand, wanted to dry her tears.

"No, it is ok, the little chicks mess up my hormones, and it is fine. Please tell me." She gave him a pitiful smile, and he grabbed her hand.

"Yes, I had friends, wizards you knew, and some I met later, who had the brain of children, and had abusive childhoods; many ended up as Azkaban prisoners. It was easy to be a Dark Lord follower. I want to help them get out; to obtain their earlier releases before their youth is gone. I want to fight for young magical beings, to get them out of abusive situations, to find them good homes, or to create a place for them."

He now held both of her hands and held them close to his heart while he talked. It was Hermione's turn to feel a flip-flop inside her belly. Who was this wizard?

"Many young wizards, and witches, who might end up, or are now, prisoners, at Azkaban, when they are barely adults, suffer, or suffered parental abuse and neglect. A lot of them are not even adults in their minds; they are like Vince, little children inside." Hermione's admiration for the changed wizard grew. He was a wizard and advocating for change, just like her.

He noticed her agreeing to his words, "Nobody fights for them, it is almost worse when they come from a moneyed home. Rich parents are vengeful and have the means to cause a lot of damage. Vince was one of the abused and neglected, and we, my family, did what we could, but the dark-undertow pulled me under with him."

He looked at her; she was not judging him, and her eyes understood, so he decided to continue.

"I cannot lie; I did terrible things and enjoyed doing them. I loved the feeling of being powerful, and just getting my way not caring about the consequences. However, Herb, my counselor, taught me the reason for my behavior, and I wish for others to have the same chance." He had a very sad look about him that made Hermione want to console him.

Hermione was surprised at his speech. A wizard with dreams of rescuing others, a wizard after her own heart; it was fate. Her heart was full of joy, she freed her hands and without thinking, she moved next to him, well sat on his lap, and gave him a great hug. The mere fact that their parents were engaged for over six months, made her feel very close to him.

She did not have brothers or sisters, but her parents were demonstrative, and physical affection was easy for her. She had seen all his baby pictures, stories before it all went bad. She had laughed with Irina at the ones of him and Vince eating like hungry wolves, or playing with Greg, who was always leading the other boy to mischief.

It was not the Greg she had met later, comes to show, everyone has many unknown faces. She had heard from Irina that something bad had happened to the young Greg, but she would not elaborate. When Hermione had bought Crabbe Manor, Irina had made excuses not to go with her to talk to Lady Crabbe. That woman Crabbe gave her the creeps.

She just closed her arms around Greg. And before she knew it, she was holding Greg tight, he was trembling, and she could hear his heart. His body felt right, he felt in the right place, close to her.

He just lifted her a little and leaned on the divan with her on his lap.

Greg was speechless. He held her very tight, his fingers kneading her gently, "Thanks for being so good, for thinking about your friends. It gives me hope for the future." Hermione murmured onto his chest.

His soul felt full of love, he was grateful to whatever karma, forces, or whatever had sent this witch into his life.

Her small body felt fragile on his arms, yet, it felt perfect. He just held her on to him, and said nothing. Greg Goyle, the former gorilla, holding the princess into his arms, fancy that. Not in his wildest dreams ever; he would tell Herb, he would be so happy for him.

He became conscious of her fragrance. It was floral, a light perfume mixed with her natural scents. Her hair smelt of herbs, of honey, and strawberries. He was sure she could hear his heart beat.

Hermione relaxed; delighted to be in his warm, friendly embrace. His heart's beat was strong and it calmed her. It felt good to be held just so. So much like Harry, like Henri, but Greg was so much bigger, she felt protected, and something else. She was slow to recognize the feeling coming over her, but soon discovered it was desire.

She turned her face up to his and met his eyes. He was looking straight into her. His hand was gently rubbing her back; his fingers leaving fire trails; starting frissons of desire wherever they touched. Setting miniature body fires on their wake, and the flames would go straight into her core.

He bent down and kissed her forehead, and just left his lips there, just touching. Feeling her soft skin next to his lips, he asked himself, how a person's skin can taste so good, his breathing was uneven, and he did not want to scare her away from him. She felt fragile, as a tiny bird, and he wanted to be gentle.

With her hand, she caressed his chest from side to side. Sitting sideways on his lap was not working too well, and with his help, she straddled him, sitting on her calves, and over his knees. Her hand then moved up to his neck, and he bent his neck to trap her hand, to increase the pressure, and moaned with pleasure.

He pulled her, and pressed her close to him, and asked "May I kiss you?" his voice husky with desire.

It was the first time she had been asked, and that made her want his lips all over her, "Please," was all she could say in a strangled voice.

He lowered his lips, and first gently rubbed his lips on hers, just touching them so, rubbed her nose with his, luxuriated in the sensuality of the moment. He couldn't get over how soft she was.

In seconds, increased the pressure with his lips, opened them a little coaxing her, she opened her lips and his tongue touched hers. That was all it took, the kiss turned fervent, his tongue caressing hers, both keening passionate sounds. Their mouths couldn't have enough of one another. His hands ran thru her hair, caressed her neck, she was doing the same. His hands lowered to her back, and chuckled at the thought how his hand could almost cover all her slender back.

Everything stopped all around them, Hermione was not thinking at all, must be the hormones, she later thought. He would lick her warm soft lips; she would do the same; their lips, their tongues were dancing, touching, licking, he would give her small bites, and come back to kiss her some more. He was so full of desire; he just wanted to posses her, to feel her all around him.

Kissing Millicent had never felt like this. He felt currents of desire like waves, running through from his toes, to his fingers, grabbing his groin, making his hips buck, mimicking the act of love. He could feel the wetness, the hardness, and moans of want, of need, sounds he was unable to recognize leaving his lips.

He pulled her up, like a feather unto his lap, she was happy he had done it first, she was about to straddle him. "Love, wrap your legs around me, get of your knees."

He whispered. When she lowered herself right on top of his arousal, his eyes rolled back. He bit his lips not to scream. Oh Merlin, she was so warm. His hand went up her waist, his fingers lightly touching her breast.

She wanted to feel more, not caring he was almost a stranger in many ways. She wanted to be stretched and filled by him, to hear this wizard cry her name while he possessed her. Oh, yes, please she wanted that. She was close to an orgasm; she could feel her walls contracting, spasms, making her hips roll. And his hand closed on her breast, and he let go of her mouth, bending to kiss her nipple.

A light tremor set on her legs, and she bit his shoulder not to scream. He realized she was in the throes of pleasure, and bit her nipple ever so gently. "Oh god, oh god," Hermione cried feeing him as she came. She knew this was only the start.

His hips lifted from the seat, he wanted more. She followed the lead and moved even closer. He moaned very loud, not thinking, forgetting that they were sitting in an open room.

She was unable to believe the length and with of his hardness, it felt nearly dangerous. Maybe it had been that long, and her impressions were distorted, not that this mattered. She felt wanton and moved over him.

He was expertly moving against her, and in a second he would come, he was feeling the tightness, the lower back ache. "Oh, Love, Hermione, can you feel me, can you, I need you, do you want me?" asking while still kissing her. He didn't want to come in his trousers.

She could only sob back and nodded her head. Yes, she wanted him badly, and felt wanton. With abandonment she moved against him side to side. He pulled from her mouth, the longer kiss in his life.

"Hermione, my room, let's go in for privacy. I want to see you, to touch all your body, to be inside of you." His face looked needy, his eyes hooded, breathing ragged, Hermione did not remember even Henri looking his sexy, is so much need. He tried to get up, but could not move.

Her response was to wantonly move her hips around him to increase the friction and pressure. "Please, come with me, it has been so long, Hermione."

He was crying on need. He could feel her nether lips opening for him. Oh Merlin, he wanted her so very bad. No longer concerned if she was so much smaller than him, he would be gentle, even if he did not think that he could. He pressed against her, he was almost there, and he only wanted to come inside her, not like this. He wanted her moist heat, he could only start to imagine.

"Please, please, my room," he pleaded. His hand up her thigh, he had not ever touched her bare breasts, how strange, nearly shagging her and had not touched her bare skin. He wanted to feel her wetness, up his hand went, on her belly, her rounding belly, how sweet. He caressed her rounded belly, with awe and lust.

She had some kind of stretch hose? His fingers lowered, ah, a small patch of wet hair. He nearly screamed feeling her heat, her moisture, he could smell her arousal. "My room please." He asked again.

"Later, no time-"and she continued loving him. He kissed her eyes, her neck, she bit his neck, she felt again very close, when his finger reached her labia, so wet, so warm, she whispered, "Oh, please touch, don't stop, Greg, I am going to –"

"Greg, son, where are you? Camellia where are the children" It was Irina's perky accented voice. Sounded as she had Floo into the main entrance, in a couple of minutes she would be upon them.

Suddenly, in the fog of desire, of lust, the to-be lovers heard Camellia's happy barks, and the clicking of heels coming their way. Hermione's duelist reflexes worked like a charm, she was still active in the second order.

In two seconds, she was smoothing her hair, lowering her knee-length-empire-cut tunic, over mid-calf- leggings. Greg had already donned his robes, and just closed them trying to quiet his trembling hands and normalize his breathing. He was dying to taste his finger, he had been so close. He kept biting both of his lips.

They both looked at each other, and Hermione stretched her hand to fix his collar, and both broke out in nervous laughter, akin to teenagers caught snogging at Hogwarts. Greg reached, grabbed her hand, and was kissing the palm when Irina came at the end of the long hallway into the conservatory, tea room.

She smiled knowingly, the well kissed look, and both the guilty parties looking, well, guilty. The hand kissing and hooded eyes, she wished she had not barged in. She just hoped that Greg would not use Hermione. She would talk to Robert about it. She should have asked his earlier.

"We need to leave in no longer than ten minutes. I will let you all finish getting ready. I need to pick up dessert from the kitchen," she turned to leave.

"How are we getting there?" Greg asked is voice still a little breathy.

"Floo," both Irina and Hermione answered. As soon as Irina turned, Greg brought the guilty finger to his nose and inhaled, her scent invaded his senses, the desire all renewed. Then, he licked the finger as she watched mesmerized.

Time to end this; a rational voice told Greg, this is going nowhere right now. He winked to her and ran into the loo. He needed to be sane and only had a few minutes.

* * *

A/N This chapter I changed little. I thought it was ok the way I had written it first.


	8. Meeting the father, and a ghost

**JKR is the one, she owns all HP characters, the story is mine.**

I am so very glad this re-edit has been well received. It had some holes, and it now reads much better, at least to my biased eyes.

To Savva and Irmorena, Savva helped me with the story and kept me going

Ah, last time we left a somehow frustrated couple because they forgot the golden rule, don't make out in an open room. I hate to play with my characters but my muse decided this was one story where she/it was going to play a game of almost there.

* * *

**Dinner at Hermione's father, ****new friends, old enemies**

Hermione stumbled out the Floo. She was having trouble with Floo, Side-long Apparition, or just to Apparate; all made her nauseous and dizzy, the little chicks were taking a toll on her, but the idea was making her happy. Greg let Camellia down, who was quick to disappear into the formal living room; he heard voices and laugher, men's voices greeting the dog, who else was invited?

Robert B. Granger stepped forward and before salutations, he gathered Irina and kissed her lips gently. They were both very familiar with each other, and Irina seemed to melt into the tall Muggle's arms. Greg's stomach knotted in what felt like jealousy. He averted his eyes, he was being unreasonable; and to shame him more, he nearly had sex with the man's daughter just minutes before, '_Get a grip Grego'_.

He shook Robert's hand with alacrity, and Greg quickly assessed him to probably be a friendly person. He stood a couple inches shorter than Greg, at 6' 4" Robert B. Granger was a formidable contender. Robert turned towards Irina again. Greg glanced trying not to be obvious and found the couple on each other's arms, in a comfortable, hmm, in a rather hot embrace. She kissed him a little too long, open mouth, he was sure, and he held her for a while longer, there foreheads touching, obviously submerged in their feelings. And wait their hips were melded into each other's.

Greg felt out place and shifted his weight from leg to leg. He could see the love in the man's eyes. He still was a little put off by his mother's open display of love for a stranger; however, this was so much better than when she had to bed all those Death Eaters, even with the Dark Lord himself, poor his mother. She had been just a few years older he was now. He must be happy for her. He had never asked how they met; he needed to do it later.

"Hello son, happy to meet you what a pleasure." Robert Granger liked the young man, and immediately noticed how he held Hermione's hand, very tight. His daughter's body leaned on Greg's with familiarity, and she was glowing in a way he had not seen for a while. He looked at Irina, who just gave him the international gesture for, _who knows, your guess is a good as mine_.

Robert needed to ask first Irina, or should he wait for Mimi to say something? He was not sure why it bothered him, could it be because of the young man's violent past? Or because he knew how Greg had treated his princess all those years ago; Robert had never gotten over of a school where his daughter born to prestige and wealth had been treated worse that a serf long ago. Neither could he forget she had been sent to fight magically seasoned maniacs. That association had already cost him too much.

"The pleasure is mine." Greg approved the man's looks. He looked young, fit, and confident. He was handsome, and could see why his mother worried about other women. Why had Hermione ended up so tiny?

_Your daughter is my pleasure,_ Greg thought. He could not forget the sweet snogging session, that extra long kiss and the sweet torture they had just shared. Sweet mother of Salazar, he was getting extra aroused, tonight was going to be painful, having to sit through a long dinner and near the witch whose mere presence send him into a state of perpetual desire.

He knew in his heart that he had allowed the consuming hunger of years of abstinence to lead him astray. He needed to slow down and treat her with due respect. He should not use her to merely satisfy his need for a female body next to his.

However all said and done, he knew that it was much more than that. He had always loved her, and now she was there within his reach. He held her hand even tighter, and it made his heart sing. Her thumb was caressing his wrist and palm sending shivers up and down his spine. He brought the hand to his mouth and kissed it with intent while looking at her, she licked her lips.

Of course, the fierce kitten with the beautiful curly hair had not helped his good intentions. If his momm –mother had come just some minutes later, he would have tried harder to shag his star-solicitor. Gods, he had had his hand up her - already, and lets not forget the -. He did not want to even think about it, he must be looking extra randy, how gauche. He hoped Robert would not detect his state of mind, or the front of his trousers.

He forgot that he was wearing muggle clothes; his face turned bright red and looked down. Ah, the short summer robe he had on, he should be ok. He pretended to be checking his wand's holster. It was so reassuring to have his wand again, for more reasons than one.

Hermione's eyes were on him, and his pupils shone with sheer delight. She realized that he was very shy. She also had an idea of what was up with him, and made mental plans to be very tired and stay over at Irina's.

It was nothing new, she had done it before. She did not feel like going home alone after sundown. She had two helpers at her home, a magical couple in their 70's. They lost their small pub during the war and were happy to have found such a good position. However, they were off for two months, they suddenly announced their need to go around the time that Greg's appeal had been won, she was bummed out they left so suddenly, they both had been upset to go, but not as much as she.

Never mind, no gloom tonight, if she played her cards right she would pave the way for Irina to spend the night with her dad. She felt at home with Greg, what a strange sensation. Was this love at first sight, she already knew him, or did she?

"Greg, may I show you around? Do you want to see the room I had when I went to Hogwarts, we could look at a few pictures, and I have a couple of the ones in the swimming suits you all used to pass around."

_Had the little kitten winked her eye_? Greg felt his face burning, knowing he still had copies of them. "I have no idea what you are talking about." He said with a stuttering voice.

"Yes, you would be one of the only; Harry bought a set for me, and told me they are traded. You know they show several of us in bikinis." and they both laughed as they walked up in the long stairway, stepping onto a thick carpet.

"The house is a lot bigger than I expected, it looks, hmm, normal." He wanted to kick his own bum, what kind of remark was that?

"Normal as in a wizard's house, I take this is your first Muggle house. Yes, we live in houses, and this has Floo connection to my work and my home, and yours of course, for Dad. I had to pay a king's ransom and pay all kind of permits. It has been in my father's family since it was built, around eighteen hundred, it is not your manor, but it is not too far behind."

"You don't live here?" Greg asked hopeful. The possibilities were opening in front of him, so much for going slow.

"No, I occasionally stay here, but I often stay at your home, across your room. The white suite, I can see the inside of your room from my bed." She gave him a saucy look.

Greg was wondering what kind of lioness this was, not a kitten but a full grown lioness. He kept his eyes on hers and held on to her waist, so tiny. If Vince could see him he would make fun of him.

"So this is my room." The room was large, spacious; it had a big study desk, a large bookcase, full to the brim, a few stuffed animals, two single beds, and small couch.

No sooner they were into the room; she turned around and embraced him. His heart was racing, his promises of going slow already forgotten. She felt so right surrounded by him. He wanted to make her his for the rest of his life. He was already hard as granite; his erection was throbbing, achy, and ready for her.

"Let's sit, we will be more comfortable," their height difference was too great, and he did not dare to pick her up with her father and his mother downstairs.

They sat and fell into an embrace. He couldn't tell who started the kiss. In a second they were side ways, their bodies seeking maximum contact. Their mouths were expressing their need it just wasn't enough. Their limbs all tangled, as he pressed his hardness against her thigh and both moaned.

"Hermione, oh Hermione, I want you so much, forgive me for being so forward." She heard him say. She felt the same way, and her mind was racing, computing if there were enough time, and she knew there wasn't, if she knew him better a quickie would have been nice.

In a few hours they would be back at Goyle Manor, and she would find the way to spend their evening together. Only with Henri they had slept together that same night, slept because she was too drunk and too angry. She couldn't however remember this type of urgency, the reckless feeling, never been like this, but it felt right.

"Yes, I know," She murmured between kisses, "I think we need to wait, later." He heard the promise of later and tried to slow down, not knowing if he could.

His hand, at her breast, caressed it with great care; he knew pregnant women had tender nipples. Her breast felt soft and wonderful. He moved the hand to feel her waist, her bum. Oh, the bum, it felt wonderful, not only wonderful, she had a beautiful bum and one didn't have to wonder why Draco liked it.

She was doing her own reconnaissance; her hand caressed his neck, his face, his chest, each touch elicited a moan, from such a big man, it was just too sexy.

"Please touch me, touch me," he grabbed her hand and put it on top of his hardness and pressed it against. He didn't care; this was the new Greg, more assertive and sure of himself. When she did, he keened, "Oh, love, unbutton me, please, please take off your knickers, I don't know my way around your Muggle clothes, and I don't want to damage them." His voice was stuttering as he trembled with lust.

"Let me close the door," she reached under her dress, and pulled her wand, "Alohamora," she whispered, and the door closed.

She kneeled in front of him, "Help me."

With trembling fingers, he unbuttoned his pants and his cock just sprung out twitching and clear drops of semen formed at the large head. She knew it, Henri went commando most of the time, it was a wizards' thing. With her wand she divested herself of her leggings and her knickers, why pretend. The tunic covered her in any case.

His eyes were closed tight, his mouth slacked, the breathing ragged. His hand touching her face while she freed him, "Oh my goodness, you are- wow."

He chuckled softly," it's all for you kitten."

Hermione was wondering if Greg was a good idea, the sight of 'it' was intimidating. It had been a year, but she had never seen something like this, a little scary, and size had never been an important factor, although all were about the same, this wasn't the same, even compared to Harry who was not small, or even Draco who Pansy called him a 'stallion', dear god.

She smiled a crooked smile, "I hope it is not too much."

"Just sit on my lap, just for one minute;" he pulled her up to him.

One hand went to her bare bum. She sat sideways, straddling him was out the question, she had cramps today and even if now fit his girth would still require a good stretch from her. And the other hand lifted the tunic, with glazy eyes; he looked at her round belly and her trim mound, and groaned with longing.

"Oh, love, so beautiful, "his hand parting her legs, "Just a look, I want to dream." He loved her with his eyes, and when he touched her wet labia, his entire body shuddered, she felt his hardness poking her in the side, no wonder; he was pushing it in to her. In one fast, fluid movement he straddled her, it wasn't that difficult and she was being silly.

"No Greg, there is not enough time," she was mostly afraid and worried her father would notice it on her, that she had sex with Greg.

"Just a touch, a feel please" his fingers feeling their way around, touching her clit, lips kissing her mouth with passion, gentle nips, tongue against tongue, she was half kneeling, not allowing her hips to fall down, and felt one his fingers going into her, and felt the wet head pulsing against the entrance, he removed the fingers, "No Greg, we don't have, oh God."

He was thrusting just outside the entrance, rubbing her clit, just barely in, Hermione, oh love," a plea in his voice. Her slick heat was beckoning, and he would do anything to be fully sheathed,

"Let me put you in my mouth," she asked in a small voice, but instead a thrust drove him a little further in, barely the top, when an orgasm contraction started before she even knew what was happening, her body arched, He bit her shoulder controlling a scream after feeling the tight squeeze.

"So beautiful, so warm, oh witch, just let me in, just once."He cried, knowing it wasn't right to ask.

She nodded, she winced, it would hurt this way, she could tell, he was barely sheathed, crying very soft, " So warm, so good, sorry," his eyes closed, his face showing the pain and the pleasure of being hugged so tight, his hips involuntary arched up, wanting more. Slowly, a smaller thrust as he open his heavy eyes, and he reluctantly let her go when he saw the pain, he felt bad for rushing her, but Hermione shook her head. "Shh, it is ok." He helped her off him,

She threw a pillow on the floor, and kneeled between his spread-out legs. She was already sorry missing the stretch and the friction, but tonight she would be more relaxed.

As she touched the dripping head, his hips thrust forward; she moved closer and licked the top. "Oh, love, it will not last, next time, maybe it is good, time-wise."

He thought he was in heaven; he didn't want her to ever stop and was sorry it would go too fast. Millicent had never gone down on him. "Come here, I want to touch you as well, more."

She moaned when she closed her lips around it. She was afraid to bite him, her mouth barely opened that wide, even relaxing the throat she would not cover half of him. She knew he hadn't been with a witch for a long time, he had said it himself, and she wanted to give him this gift.

Closing her eyes, her hands around the stiff length, she shuddered burning with desire. She ran her hands along his length, along the ridges, her fingers caressing, and she traced her path with her tongue. With one hand she cupped his sack, which made him arch his back. She loved the feeling, giving him all the pleasure.

Making him writhe and moan, made her full of lust and desire, she was experiencing small spasms, pure orgasmic pleasure, never before in her life just with giving him pleasure. Light tremors ran through thighs as he felt a burn building up. Her mouth and tongue send pleasure along his body. He wanted inside of her, but this was the best thing ever.

Whenever he could, his eyes would open, and he could see her mouth giving him pleasure. His stomach clenched along with his hitched breath, his body arched, his feet flexed and digging onto the floor.

It seemed as if no time had passed, when he went stiff, and groaned, "I am coming, and you don't h-"and tried to pull away from her. She sped her actions and would not let go.

When he felt the tightness and the burn; the impact of his seed release had him thrusting into her without control, he hoped he wasn't hurting her. Tears of relief and joy inundated his eyes; this was a real homecoming gift.

Her tongue was touching all around the head, when he came in big spurts. "I love you, love you Hermione." He was happy to tell her, and with each thrust he felt the anguish of years evaporating. The interminable days were washed it away with this new feeling of love.

He was still ejaculating when he felt his soul leave his body, and he saw the room from above. The room was full of sparkles of magic, his magic, he was in love.

Hermione was leaning her forehead on his thigh. With wandless magic, "Scourgify," she murmured and cleaned the small mess, then helped him to button up. Aided by magic she had dressed again.

He pulled her up to him. "I do love you Hermione Malfoy, I have for a long time, and you don't have to say anything, just let me hold you."

"I have never come this hard." Greg whispered. "I cannot wait to be all the way inside, I won't be rough, I will be very careful." Gods, he was already hard again.

"I never had an orgasm without stimulation, and it wasn't the first one today." She whispered back. It was true, she didn't understand it. The power of emotions and the magic released indicated something more, a true link, and she'd thought the reasons behind were the pregnancy sexy hormones.

_He loves, he loves me, and I wonder if this is sex talking, I hope not. _She thought while she leaned against him.

She had nearly told him, "I love you too." And if she had said, it would have been true. It wasn't a painful love; it was a joyful, soothing, and passionate love. Nearly akin to the one felt for her Henri, but the intensity scared her.

They held each other for a few minutes longer as he softly kissed her hair and traced her face with his fingers, never opening his eyes. He didn't want her to see his tears of happiness. He wasn't ashamed to cry, he had seen all the grown up wizards crying for his wives, children, families, for all the errors they made, more than once. At Azkaban, he had seen the Darkest of them all mourning their lives and what they left behind. These weren't that kind; these were healing tears, tears of real joy.

"Come down, this is a visit for everyone, time for house showing later, "it was Robert calling them, and Camellia joining with barks.

They stood up slowly, and she murmured. "I like you a lot, Greg Goyle, give a day or two, and I might learn to love you," and held on to his hand; he smiled, and his eyes shone with love. So much had changed in his life in less than 24 hours. This was pure magic.

In the middle of the steps, "I need to go back to the room; I need to get a light sweater and short socks." Her feet were often too cold or too hot, her thermostat seemed to be broken. She felt as she was walking on cotton, a feel of unreality was upon her. She couldn't stop smiling, Greg Goyle, who could have told.

She went to the room, and decided to change to low waist jeans with a touch of spandex, and a soft jersey jumper, then she ran downstairs to the family room.

"Hermione," the tall wizard called her to his side, after Robert and Irina exchanged a few pleasantries; they left for a minute to check on the food, "We will be right back." Robert looked a Greg right into his eye, and then to his clothes, looking for telltale signs of whatever, and he found none. He had put Greg on notice not to try anything with his Hermione, he was a little late.

Greg exhaled with relief when Robert left, "Love, you come and sit here, on the love-seat?" Greg said patting the seat next to him in the small couch, a love seat; Robert had told him the name and had smiled at his expression, a strange Muggle name. Who would be able to make love in such tiny seats?

Merlin, his mind was down south, _calm down Greg_, he admonished his overly alert body. Today, he had more sexual thoughts that in along time. The interlude upstairs had been just a taste. He had opened a pressured bottle and all wanted to come out. He smiled at all the visuals with full comprehension of not being at a good place. Any reference sounded sexual, he was in trouble.

"Come here kitten," he called again; he wanted her warmth next to him. His mind was still wrapped around her. Her mouth around him, and he had been there, next to heaven. He made an effort to come back to the now.

Camellia, heard the "come here," ignored the kitten part and complied.

"Thanks handsome human, woof," the white dog jumped and plopped herself next to Greg. He had called her, and she had not forced her way up and proceeded to smell his hand suspiciously making him blush. It was the 'guilty hand', the one that had touched Hermione. Greg was looking at the white terror when he heard a loud chuckle behind him.

**A dog that walks the shadow-lands**

He looked back, and saw a portrait of Professor Snape behind him, "Sir, fancy seeing you at this house." Greg was truly surprised, the head of his Slytherin house at Hermione's home?

Hermione laughed, "I see your surprise. Well, Camellia and the Professor are old friends. He helps me to take care of her when I have to be at court; I also have a portrait of him, a frame you know, at my home."

Greg turned around to look at Snape, "I see you are wondering how a portrait can take care of a naughty fur-ball; she is actually better behaved than the dunderheads I used to deal with." Snape had a huge smirk looking at the surprised look on the re-invented Goyle's face.

"Professor, will you do the honors?" asked Hermione, who had turned around the seat. Greg didn't like her mischievous look, neither Professor's Snape's new happier face. They were up to no good.

"Yes, my lady. Camellia, come here princess, "Snape complied.

Camellia jumped over the back the seat, clearing it in one magnificent arch. That feat alone amazed Greg but even more at the act that followed. It appeared as if the pooch had flown over 7.5 feet up, and had gracefully landed onto the top shelf of a book case. One obviously set for a specific purpose, right below Snape's portrait frame, and in-between another portrait, which was momentarily empty. Ah, the shell was a walkway; and he was about to see why.

By now, Greg was sure that he had lost his sanity while imprisoned. The small white dog, popped up a second head, and with a gracious leap, she jumped up straight into Professor Snape's arms, yes, inside the portrait. She must have hidden wings or springs for legs, that much was certain. He could not make up his mind what was more amazing, Professor Snape guffaws, or Camellia's antics? Greg gasped and rubbed his eyes, while Hermione laughed with delight.

And if things were not already strange enough, the small dog suddenly appeared inside the second frame. A voice, belonging to someone not visible spoke, "here beggar," and something landed by the flying pooch. It appeared to be a piece of dried meat which she grabbed as she jumped out the portrait straight down to the ground. Camellia came and sat on the floor, next to Greg and started to eat.

The little show had rendered him speechless, he was barely able to ask, "Is that?"

"Not sure, some kind of jerky," Hermione answered.

"But how can this be?" Greg's voice croaked.

"Although nobody knows, Severus assures us, that she can follow him into any portrait, even back to Hogwarts. She often goes into Lucius Malfoy's studio where he has one of his portraits. Moreover, Harry calls me occasionally because Camellia has come out Snape's portrait at his home, well out the frame that is. Once in a while she refuses to return the same way, and Harry has to Apparate to bring her back. I think is a ploy, because we have to keep her at work, until I am ready to go home."

"That is impossible, no living entity can go inside a portrait, the beings inside are not even real, they contain memories and learned the behavior of those gone. Of course, some say the souls do visit once in a while, but not what I just saw."

"Says who?" smiled Snape. "I assure you I am real Mr Goyle, and by the way I almost couldn't recognize you, a wizard in love and very handsome, congratulations."

Greg was quite bedazzled. There was more magic here than he was willing to accept.

"She is our secret, the ministry has no idea, and they never will. I would hope you keep it to yourself. Very few know it. You must know that she has made much possible for many of us, and has brought happiness into our existences. I cannot tell you what is really happening; even if we wanted, nothing would come out our lips. Suffice to say this isn't normal situation for portraits. Not to worry, one day you will find out."

Severus looked very enigmatic, and Greg was agog. Severus Snape laughing, picking up a dog, talking to him as if he was alive, something was going on. He had decided he was still in Azkaban and dreaming one hell of a dream. If that was the case, he didn't want to be awoken.

Greg was amazed how much his life had changed in less than twenty four hours. He was full of joy, even if his mother was planning to marry; he no longer wanted to keep her from being happy. At the same time, he was afraid this wouldn't last, too many marvelous things all at once.

He stood up to get Hermione a drink and _hors' du oeuvres_ for all after Robert had asked him to help. At the kitchen they set to fix the food and drinks.

"Greg, I don't want to be nosy. However, Hermione is all I have, well besides your mother, and the _little one_. I wanted to tell you about that, as well." He put up his hand to interrupt Greg.

"Son let me finish, your mother is about five weeks into pregnancy. Her charms were not effective; she told me that she was embarrassed to tell you. I hope you will not think badly of me. I love her very much. I loved Hermione's mother, and her passing was very hard on me." Robert paused briefly; he wanted to asses Greg's face for anger signs.

Hermione is her very image, and I would like you to imagine loosing someone like her. She was gone in a few weeks after the masked wizards tortured both of us. Something in the magic triggered a deadly form of cancer. For two years, I went through the motions of living."

Greg was shaking a little, he was going to be a brother, a little Hermione, and this was too much. His heart felt as it would burst. He couldn't wait, a baby Hermione how sweet. He wasn't jealous, he was excited.

"Irina has brought joy and happiness back into my life. I could care less that she is witch; my daughter is one as well. And as for my Mimi, I hope you will be gentle and understand that she has gone through hard times, more than a woman of any age should have gone through." Robert's look hardened, and he moved his jaw back and forth.

"She was a prisoner, and tortured when she was but a child, at the house of those who she now calls family. I have always wondered of who would allow children to fight for a cause? I understand that she was nearly raped, beaten, and even after that, she goes and defends you all.

She used to come home crying when she was eleven. Draco and his goons would call her a mudblood, imagine that." The former Special-Forces-officer's face was made out of hard, angry planes.

At this Greg's eyes filled up with tears, he had helped Vince to rape her; imagine if Draco had not come along. He was the one of the goons harassing the tiny girl who only wanted to fit in. Robert looked at him surprised, all those children had paid such a high price, why allow children to fight; this fact alone still made him mad. He put his hand on Greg's shoulder, he already loved this young man and after all he was his Irina's son.

"While I don't condone a lot of her decisions, I want to protect her. Please don't harm her, are we clear on that? I know many of you were her former tormentors, I hope you can redeem yourself." Robert's eyes were moist.

"She has suffered enough pain. First the immature and careless Weasley boy, made her feel like she wasn't worth it. He did love her; too bad he had no idea of how precious she is. Then, after made to endure years of being called a dirty-blood, a little girl is called to fight an adult's war. God, we didn't know, I would had never allowed it. She was made to suffer that and so much more, so if you are going to be my family, please take good care of her." Robert squeezed both of Greg's biceps in a sign of affection.

In the middle of the emotional maelstrom, raw open feelings, and open doors into close recesses of wounded souls, Camellia showed up at the kitchen. She growled softly and pulled Robert, with great strength, by the bottom of his trousers. Then went on, and repeated the same motions onto Greg. An alarm went on, and Greg pulled out his wand. He signed to Robert to be quiet and to wait for ten seconds before following.

As he was fixing to leave the kitchen, he heard a pop and Lucius Malfoy was there, ready with his wand, in a fighting stance. He indicated for Robert to stay put, while signaling for Greg to follow him. One more pop and Harry was also there. "Snape" Lucius whispered.

Severus must have alerted them. Somehow, he was no longer just a portrait. Camellia had some kind of power; Greg would later try to figure it out.

They walked with stealth while Camellia followed behind growling, three heads out, and aggressively showed her double row of a predator's sharp teeth. The scene at the living room chilled all their hearts.

There were five Azkaban convicts, Yaxley, Mc Nair, Crabbe Sr., and two young wizards.

Yaxley and Mc Nair had a hold of Irina and Hermione arms, each on one side of the witches. Both seemed injured and not responsive. The two young thugs each held one of the witches by their waists, with a knife pointed at their throats. Both of them, no older than 17, came a few days before Greg had left, and neither had seemed very smart.

They were one of the many to arrive during the last months. They were part of a new movement; one waiting for the third coming of the Dark Lord. Crabbe Sr., behind the group, watched their backs.

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A/N Things are about to take a little turn into the dark but before that…Sorry to say that Greg was right, and the next hours are going to seem as a dream, of the bad kind. The next chapter will be published in a couple of days.

I love this Greg, a little humorous, a little confused, and lots regretful. The muse demanded a quick union between the two of them. One that is understandable from Greg's stand, and maybe even Hermione, life has not been easy for her. You can, however, notice a small degree of reluctance. Who could blame Hermione, a handsome, gorgeous wizard?

And don't believe for a minute that Robert is happy to see Greg all over his daughter.

I hope you are enjoying this as much as I do. I adore your reviews and really appreciate them.

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If you liked the story, please a review. Thanks to all the readers who left me their comments.


	9. Descend

**JKR is the one, she owns all HP characters, the story is mine.**

**Thanks to all those who read this story. This story is dedicated to Savva. **

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There were five Azkaban convicts, Yaxley, Mc Nair, Crabbe Sr., and two young wizards.

Yaxley and Mc Nair had a hold of Irina and Hermione arms, each on one side of the witches. Both seemed injured and not responsive. The two young unreformed thugs, held one of the witches by their waists and a knife pointed at their throats. The young wizards, one no older than 17, came a few days before Greg had left. Neither seemed very smart. They were not the first to arrive during the last months. They were part of the new movement waiting for another coming of the Dark Lord. Crabbe Sr., behind the group, watched their backs.

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**At Dr. Granger's residence,  
misfortune pays a visit**

Both women appeared unconscious. Greg felt an ever consuming rage – what had they done? Irina's right arm was bleeding profusely. Hermione had a large bump on her forehead, and her face was starting to swell up. All this had happened in less than ten minutes while they arranged a small tray with finger foods and beverages. You weren't safe, even at your own home. Somehow this felt as if he was responsible.

Lucius was the first to speak. Nobody commented that Robert was missing. Hopefully, he would stay put.

Now, Greg was wondering, who had helped the Death Eaters escape, how had they entered a heavily warded house? It had to be through the Floo, but how? Had he inadvertently helped them somehow? He had been out for just a couple of days, and now they were here at Hermione's home? Something was amidst.

Of course, the first question was– how they had escaped? The real crux of the matter was: why were they here? This would be one of the very few times that a prisoner had escaped, since the wartime. Until recently, when convicts used one of the counselors as a hostage and killed him on their way out. They did not get very far, within forty-eight hours they were back, but not before they killed Muggles and Aurors in their wake.

The living room was large, it had two fire places and the floo was located outside the room at fireplace located near the house entrance, just outside the living room in the main hallway. The room was rectangular shape, with two doors; one was locked with a large plant in front of it. The bi-level floor had a sunken level at the corner farthest away from the entrance. That was where they stood, and each of the five had a wand in their free hand.

Crabbe Sr. eyed Greg, "Ah, if it isn't the reformed, model wizard and fucking traitor. Pretty boy, what are you doing here? Ah, yes, with Irina, another Russian whore, what can you expect from weaklings of your sort? Hmm, Lucius what an honor, so you are also rubbing elbows with Potter and the Mudbloods, always looking after your own hide. Perfecto, it is an honor to have you witness history in the making. You can still join the new comeback." Crabbe Sr.'s welcoming speech had made them all boil with anger.

None of them answered, defiance was the name of the game. They were all trying to figure out the best route to follow. Hopefully, more help was on the way. There had not been time to alert anyone else. Snape was the key. Robert could try to leave the house and do what? Go for the police? Or go by his daughter's office. They didn't have cellular service at the office; it didn't work in Diagon Alley, too much magic in their area.

Snape's portrait was still empty; he was probably warning others. The Death Eaters must have come by the Floo, but how, the access to this home was heavily warded with limited access points. Those were the questions running through everyone's mind. If the Floo network had been compromised, the entire Britain wizarding community was in trouble. They all hoped that wasn't the case.

Both women appeared injured and unconscious. The three wizards had great concern for both witches, and were dreading for Hermione's safety. Greg's anger was intense. It shamed his heart to recognize that he had been one of the desperados in front of him. During his Death Eater years, he had been involved in similar situations and even worse ones. He would never be able to atone enough.

Crabbe Sr.'s presence brought Vince's ghost back into his world. To see his beautiful mommy, who now carried a new life inside of her, held as hostage by these nasty wizards, ate Greg's insides. He had visions of the Muggle and Half-blood families they had terrorized, maimed, and even killed. How could he have been part of this type of horror? If they would hurt either of the witches, they would pay with their lives.

Granger-Malfoy, Hermione, his new found love, the only witch he had ever loved, funny he had fallen in love with her because of Draco, and now she held a part of Draco inside of her; cruel Fates, he had her in his arms for just a few minutes, and he was about to lose her forever. Let's not forget that she was carrying all those precious lives, her little chicks. He had known the entire day that so much happiness wasn't meant for him. But why should his two witches have to pay for all his sins?

Lucius and Harry were both consumed with anger and dread. Harry was having problems remaining cool. Hermione was the only witch he had ever loved. He had never lost the hope to convince her to join them. He loved Draco; with him he had changed, found inner peace, and both were good for each other. They were brothers, confidants and lovers. However, he had hesitated in between his love for Draco and the one for Hermione. She was the mother of his child, and his best friend and beloved. Of course, there was Ron. Always a good friend, but it was different.

He was feeling the weight of his choice of Draco over her. Witches had been a passing fancy, except for Hermione. If he had gone for her, this wouldn't be happening. It was not too late to stand up for her; when this was over, he would ask her to be his wife. Draco would have to forgive him, but seeing her in mortal danger had settled his priorities. He couldn't allow anyone to ever hurt her again. He kept looking for a point of weakness there had to be one.

Lucius worried about the witch to whom he owed so much. He had learned to love the young witch as his own daughter. She had been at Azkaban at least twenty times during the last years; took care of Cissa; helped the Purebloods, and everyone that was in need. She had convinced Kingsley in adopting prison reforms, and to implement measures to protect the rights of the incarcerated.

A most terrible thought crossed Lucius mind; she was carrying three Malfoys, because they all were made out Malfoy stock. Not only had she changed his views about blood issues, but also had made great changes in their society, if not for her, Azkaban would still be a hell hole; and moreover, they would all be rotting there for years to come.

She was witch, he hoped, would honor the Malfoys once again, and join a triad with Potter and Draco. She held the Malfoy family's future in her womb. Damn, she had even the Malfoy line the gift of their line's survival, and these fools were about to snuff a bright light. But why her and here, something was going on, something he wasn't seeing.

Cissa had confessed that Hermione was the daughter she never had, and her wish for Draco to have married her. She had been her close friend while Lucius was away. Losing her after Henri, would be too much for everyone. Henri's mother, Lucius' cousin, sent her daily owls; in two weeks, she would be coming to stay with Hermione. She would be here to help during the last half of her pregnancy and with the babies.

Narcissa, Evangeline, Irina, Andromeda, and Hermione met in Paris or London, at least twice a week to shop, drink tea, and Lucius, had gone just two days ago. The ties were strong and the tragedy would tear them apart; to have four family deaths, all at once, might be too much for any of them to bear; the ideas made cold sweat drip down Lucius' back.

The fear was hurting his gut, for the new lives and hers. If the idiots were to discover her secret, he didn't even want to imagine the outcome. He hoped they weren't aware of her pregnancy. He wanted to kill each on them, just for daring to touch a Malfoy, and he would do just so when he found the chance. They had declared war on the Malfoys, and they never took prisoners. He wasn't that reformed.

The situation was quickly deteriorating. They were at a standstill, the three wizards wished they hadn't come all running at once and had left a surprise element, for smart wizards they had behaved carelessly.

"So Mc Nair, why here and why Granger?" asked Lucius holding his` anger. "Crabbe haven't you done enough damage, do you plan to spend the rest of your days behind walls. Yaxley, you are one of the last of your line, don't you think enough is enough? You all could be sent to a nastier place next time; there is that tower that Dumbledore built. Face it, Azkaban is not what it used to be, and it is actually a decent place now."

"You are so predictable, trying to scare us with prison, we aren't coming back. Why here? The answer is obvious, for Mrs. Malfoy. Don't tell me you aren't aware that little Mudblood, is carrying the virtual mother-load, her weight on pure gold and maybe more." McNair's answer was slow and deliberate.

Crabbe picked up the thread and smiled maliciously. The three wizards' blood ran cold. "One must wonder how much the houses of Black, Potter and Malfoy are willing to pay for the bundle's safety. Ah, and the House of Goyle, but poor pretty boy's vaults are pretty empty, tsk, tsk."

Lucius was the first to speak. Robert was still not around. Hopefully, he would stay put. "Let the witches go, take Harry and me. Or any of us, the witches need medical attention."

All the dark wizards laughed, "Why should we, we have the one we came for. The ministry and the community, not to mention you, dear Lucius and Lord Potter, will be ready to pay our price in exchange of the little star of our sky, the Mudblood." McNair laughed with great glee.

"And while we have her, we'll enjoy her sweet little cunt. She must be something, a sweet, tight snatch? It hast to be, why else would she have so many purebloods after her. Is our Lord Goyle dipping his famously-great-wick inside the little Mudblood whore?" taunted Crabbe, "ah, Greg, I wouldn't mind a piece of your mother's ass, I never had the honor since she was the Lestrange's whore." His laughter was sinister and truly diabolical.

"Vince wouldn't let me get to her, not within her proximity. Poor muddled brain, he thought she was his mommy. And talking about Vince my dear boy, how can you fraternize with the ones who murdered him?" Crabbe Sr. pushed him a bit further.

Lucius was praying that Greg would not answer. "Crabbe, McNair, drop the crap, you won't be able to get out of here alive; face it, we'll do whatever is needed, but we can't let you take them away. There are reinforcements coming at any second. It'd be better for you all to take your losses and to try to get away." Harry played his card.

"You're losing and you offer me a chance to leave and walk away from year's worth of planning, I think not." McNair answered, Crabbe gave me a murderous look, and Lucius caught it. Years, it was more than the babies.

"Nils, cut Ms. Granger's jumper, the back, and her gown, or whatever she has one. Let's show these wizards we mean business," McNair was dripping poison with his command, pushing them to make a move and have an excuse to kill them.

"If you don't move aside and let us go, I will let Nils have a go at the sweet princess." Crabbe said.

He pointed to Nils, who had a crazed and hard look about him. Greg had pegged him for a sociopath when he had first seen him. He had seriously injured an older inmate with his fork; rammed it through the old man's throat for asking him not to elbow him while eating.

At least twenty minutes had passed and nobody had arrived. The tension was growing. Nils did as he was told. With a couple passes of the knife, he had disrobed Hermione. Her limp body was like a rag doll. Harry was clenching his teeth; sparks of anger were shooting across the room. Lucius was stiff as a rod. Greg was pale, and his lips were trembling.

There she was, undressed, in her knickers and bra. Greg felt his eyes fill with water. Not of sorrow, of anger to see a good person used this way, this degradation, he wished he wasn't there, they had no right to see her half naked, pigs.

Lucius hands were shaking with pure, undiluted fury at witnessing his relative, Hermione Malfoy, his nephew's wife, a titled witch, and a lady, exposed to the strangers, being ogled, touched, and treated as a sex object. They would all die. He could never forgive this affront to his family's honor. Narcissa and Evangeline would expect him to do it.

'_Henri, son, what can we do, we might not being able to stop this. I just don't want her killed. The babies, I hope they don't hurt them.'_ Lucius was talking to Henri's ghost. He looked up to his portrait and saw it empty. Neither Snape nor Henri had arrived. Maybe they still had hope.

Hermione was now in her undergarments and nothing else. She wore an exquisite and sexy, nude-color set of bra and knickers. Greg knew she had done for him and cursed himself. She had creamy skin, perfect and toned long slender legs, and her breasts were larger from the pregnancy. She was perfection.

The three wizards held in their breath; Harry and Greg hated their bodies' reactions, one of extreme arousal. _Damn it!_ _She was just beautiful_. Her swollen stomach and enlarged breasts were visible to all. She looked like a fertility goddess, with her hair falling in cascades all around her.

As Nils cut of her bra, the arousal turned into livid anger. Harry's and Lucius' strong magic cores released by their fury, creating winds inside the house that made the windows rattle. Camilla had not stopped her low snarls and growls. She was in a ready-to-attack stance.

As Hermione's breasts came free, the anger felt by the three wizards was gathering momentum. Harry's vision was cloudy with tears when Nils grabbed her breasts and squeezed them without regard, obviously aroused. Lucius' hair was swirling around him with dark sparkles and black smoke coming out of him.

Normally, he might have been aroused at such beauty, but he had assumed the protector and parental role with his beloved Hermione. Somebody was going to die tonight, starting with Nils. He would deal with the consequences later.

Yes, Nils would die and then McNair for giving the order. He knew of many who would be glad to do it for him. A strangled sob escaped Greg's lips. A sob of ire, of rage, of frustration, the magic of his elders was growing inside of him, generations of powerful dark wizards released by the intense feelings; and he had vowed that Nils, and those that touched his mommy or his witch, were as good as dead. He would kill him the first chance he had. He was glad she was out for this horrible affront, for the violation of her body.

"Stop that, if you touch her again, or take more of her clothes off, you will wish you were dead. I am not threatening, you will die and it will be a painful death." Greg said between his clenched teeth.

"Don't be an idiot Nils," screamed Lucius. "What are you expecting to accomplish? If you damage her more, I will personally kill you, cover her up, she is Malfoy, damn it." He stepped forward.

"Touch her again and you are all dead." Harry was so mad his face had changed, a reddish tint, leftover from Voldemort. His eyes were bright red; the darkness he had fought for so long, was taking him over.

Camellia was tense, waiting for a command to attack. If the humans forgot, she would do it on her own. Why were they not telling her to do what she did best? She could take a couple down; she was a child of Hades. She had been forbidden to speak; she was a pup when one of the underworld bosses had come and explained the rules, it was at Hogwarts, but she understood every world. Her father Fluffy was dumb, someone had wacked his head at birth, but she wasn't. Grrrrrr. If they touch her girl once again, they would die. Were they not aware that she had the power of several powerful, earthly dogs?

She had stayed put when her girl asked her to do so. And went for help as she had asked; and for leaving her, someone had injured her some more. Camellia's hair had changed colour, it had many strands of red highlights; she now displayed a double row of teeth with the appearance of sharp blades; only one head was visible; smoke was coming out of her mouth and ears; and red lights were shooting out her eyes. If someone had bent to touch her, their hand would have been burnt, she was the virtual dog-from-hell.

The room was a cauldron of living, angry magic, ready to explode.

Greg was done talking, but without knowing all the facts, he could not risk any intervention. Their hope was Robert, perhaps he could do something. He had just heard a faint pop in the back of the home. He looked down, and Camellia's aspect made him believe this would end well. He felt a hand on his shoulder, someone invisible said, "Shh, don't say anything."

At that moment, Nils was pressing her belly. "Here're the young ones, oops, they're saying hullo." His body was making lewd gestures.

Camellia felt the babies' fear, they had just moved; her powers were tuned with the babies' feelings, and her instinct to protect her girl's litter was activated.

She jumped at once. Everyone saw a ball of fire, a burning light up on the air, which landed on Nils, knocking him on the ground. At once, the small dog attached itself to his throat. It took but a second and his jugular artery was partially severed, and cauterized with the heat, it was meant to bring him down, and kill him if assistance didn't come in time, but they didn't know it was not mortal, not yet. In a second leap, she was at McNair's throat, and before anyone would intervene, the same thing happened. Only a couple of seconds had elapsed.

Other voices were heard in the hallway, Yaxley was bent pulling Hermione from the floor. Draco appeared dropping a cloak in the ground. Camellia was going for the second thug, when a hex flew in her direction from Crabbe Sr., barely missing her. The other thug was also aiming at Camellia and was casting a hex.

At the instance, right before the hex hit her, a scream came from one of the frames, "Princess, stop it, here." Camellia was a hellhound, true; however, obedience was her best trait. At once, she flew across the room up by the portraits. POOF – she was gone. Crabbe was disoriented for a second, and looked all around for the dog.

It was enough for Robert to take a shot at Crabbe, aimed at the chest. However, someone else stepped out the Floo and sent a hex to disarm him. As a result the process the shot just grazed Crabbe's shoulder. The hex nearly sliced Robert's left arm off, blowing a big hole in his shoulder, and he went down.

Yaxley had Hermione in front of him as a shield, so he failed to see Greg right behind him pointing a wand at his throat. The other thug was still shielding himself behind Irina, with Harry right in front of him.

The shot had grazed Crabbe and gave a chance for Lucius to take his wand and stand by him; Crabbe seemed to just be laying there. A lot had gone down in seconds. Draco's efforts were concentrated in trying to stop Robert's bleeding. The arterial blood was everywhere, and the two witches were still being held by the intruders. Things were not looking up.

The hooded figure coming out the Floo, uncovered the head. It was Thorfinn Rowle, "Fancy seeing you all here. I figured out something was going on, good thing I came." He kicked Robert's fallen body as he passed him. And had his wand pointed at Draco.

From the portrait above, one of a much younger Lucius, a French accented man's voice spoke, "Someone must take care of Hermione she is dying. It isn't ma petite's time. Someone do something." It was Henri, and he was begging.

"You pigs get her medical help," implored Greg. Where had Rowle come from? Hermione was very pale; McNair and Nils were probably dead or soon would be. Robert was seriously injured. They were in a standoff with several lives endangered, and with no relief in sight.

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**Next time**. From bad to worse, or is it backwards?

Reviews sweet kitties, they make me purr. Seriously my muse loves to munch reviews, delicious.


	10. Hostage Crisis, and dog

**Disclaimer: **All JKR. Thanks to her. I only owe Camellia and the story.

I want to thank the readers supporting this story. I like to explore how socialization programs at prisons, youth homes, and the such, might help many but miss a few, and what happens when they do. Reviews are welcome and appreciated **Thanks for the reviews. This story is dedicated to Savva and to Irmorena for her continued loyal support. **

**Camilla is a sometimes three headed dog. She is the daughter of Fluffy, and a small French dog, she was given to Hermione as a present. The how she came to be is complex. Read the story with Camellia. Chapters 4, and 5, they can be read as stand alones. The name is Camellia, Hermione's present. She has awesome powers and can move in and out of portraits. There are many mysteries still to be resolved about her actual abilities.**

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-**Last time-**

From the portrait above a French accented man's voice spoke, "someone must take care of Hermione, she is dying. It is not her time. Someone do something." It was Henri, and he was begging.

"You pig, get her medical help," Greg implored. Where had Rowle come from? Greg wondered, and gods, Hermione was very pale; McNair and Nils were probably dead or soon would be.

xox

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**A crisis worsens**

As the ordeal developed, three young and troubled wizards kept their eyes trained on the injured and nearly naked Hermione. They all had mixed feelings of lust, horror, and mostly an intractable desire to murder those responsible for this mess.

Harry and Draco had been aroused by Hermione's knickers clad figure. Earlier, they had both imagined her in their bed, even in the middle of such mess, and in their fantasy each had touched her pregnant belly and her heavy breasts and tasted her body, and the treasure between her legs. Harry hated himself for his lust fully aware this was not the time or place. He wasn't able the desire be consumed in her fire, or to stop the longing to be inside of her tight sheath with his babies inside of her.

Draco wasn't happy at being so aroused, but he was more pragmatic; thus, he imagined all the males wanted her in some degree. Well all, except Lucius, he could see the anger in his father's eyes. He knew his parents viewed her as their daughter. It could not be helped, she was a sight. He was sure the older wizards wanted Irina, such a magnificent witch.

His wishes to have Hermione with both, Harry and him, had to turn into reality as of today. If she had been with them, this would have never happened. She couldn't be left alone, and needed to be protected 24-7. Who was he kidding, what he really wanted was his mouth on her nipples while his hands touched her all over. He used the mental images to keep himself from falling apart in anger. He would leave Harry for her; he should have listened to his father, or could he really leave Harry, he wasn't sure?

In one instance, adding to his disquiet, he noticed Greg's expression. Oh shit, was Greg in love with Granger? Poor Greg, she would never be his, she was a Malfoy and would stay as one. She was too good for a Goyle, and besides she was the mother of three Malfoys, Greg just wasn't good enough for her. Granted his father had spoken of how far Greg had come. No, Granger was a Malfoy, poor Greg. If needed, he would remind him. Sizing Greg up, he had to acknowledge that this wasn't a Greg he recognized, he looked like Irina's son, his high cheekbones, and exotic eyes, had transformed him into a first class rival, this made Draco very unhappy.

**At –GranPucNot- Headquarters.**

Snape had been screaming non-stop; he had already tried all the places where there were frames of his portraits. Henri had also tried to get help by calling Lucius and also Draco.

'_Damn, it isn't Hermione's time_.' Severus was deep in thought when a pull-away sensation grabbed him, and tried his best to resist it. Something, or someone, had decided to take him somewhere else, his ectoplasm form was dissolving. It was like nothing he had felt before. He had the feeling that he was being moved to the next stage.

"Someone here, please answer, HELLO," he used all his ectoplasm generated energy to scream full blast.

Adrian had just come back to get scrolls he had left behind when he heard a voice calling from Hermione's office. Zabini and Flint were waiting outside; they were going out for drinks and to meet with some friends from Hogwarts who had already met with Theo. He supposed that Harry and Draco must be there by now. He pulled out his wand and went by the office. He had recognized Professor's Snape voice and had opened the door in a hurry.

"Mr. Pucey, you must call the Aurors, there is a hostage situation at Miss Granger, err, Hermione's home, her parents' home. It is a matter of a life and death, don't use the Floo because it has been compromised by Death Eaters. Before you ask, they must have escaped from Azkaban—"

"Where, I will go myself." It was Rabastan Lestrange who now worked at their building and was just outside listening. And then he heard, "Hermione and Greg's mother are injured," as Snape continued.

"Irina, oh no, I don't know the address, please give it to me." Rabastan's face had turned the colour of ash, not Irina, not her he thought with anguish.

"Let me finish, there are five death eaters. Two of them I don't know, plus Yaxley, McNair, and Crabbe Sr. Lucius, Harry, Draco and Bill were on their way. Now, go right away; the Aurors must bring a healer and blood replenishing solution," Snape gave the address, and he left back to his portrait, "ah, and a healer with knowledge of pregnant witches."

In the middle of his return trip to the Granger's, Snape was pulled into a vortex, it felt just as when he had died, but this was in reverse. It felt as if he had gone back to a tangible dimension, full of colour, and physical sensations, which made sense to him, it was what he had been told it would happen.

Right away, he felt warm and peaceful. He had been sucked into a warm place. A tight location where consciousness had just arrived, it was even stranger than when he had left the human world, and this was different. Stranger of all, during his travel he saw Henri coming through the same vortex. A feeling of peace and love suffused his battered soul. He had felt protected and loved for once in his life.

"No, not yet, Hermione, we must help her." They both screamed, there was pleading on their voices.

And a voice talked to them, "Don't fight it, your mother needs you. You two died by magic, and it was too soon. You are granted magic at this stage, use it wisely. The other body is not yet occupied it, and it depends how it goes during the battle being waged. You two will remember a lot, on time, it is a gift for Severus, and as for you Henri, let's say that you are in luck."

And just like that, they had understood where they were and why; and just waited, meanwhile they still remembered who they had been, and who they became.

Rabastan didn't know the house and was wondering where to apparate. Adrian was thinking the same. "Let's get Zabini and Flint. We are all part of the reserve Auror unit. The Aurors will be on their way there, but I know the home. We need to apparate into one of the rooms without heavy wards, in the basement. Let's go."

"I wish that I could stop by the clinic, but we cannot afford the time. I am her doctor, Hermione's, and I am worried for the babies, they are growing at an unnatural rate and a crisis will be dangerous. This was her last week at work; she was taking off to relax, and to spend time with her father and Irina. This situation couldn't have happened at a worse time. I can only imagine Lucius, Draco and Harry, they must be going crazy. I don't envy their place, fucking idiots who have committed this assault. I will kill them personally."

Blaise was beyond angry. He admired the witch, they all did, and they all owed her being accepted in this new world. He teased Hermione and told him the baby girl had his name, he would marry her since the mother was taken.

-**Back at Granger's home**-

Camellia had killed neither of the Death Eaters, but they were as good as gone without blood replenishing and immediate medical attention. She was glad to be of assistance, it was her mission to protect her human, and she would do it again to protect her or her little offspring.

Camellia was whining feeling Henri's and Snape's departure from this world, however, she saw two hardly visible streams of lights entering her witch's belly, and Camellia was she was happy to see where they had gone. She would be having many years of good times, and she could not wait. "Woof," she said. Her life span would be as long as her humans still needed and loved her, but when her witch left, she would follow, and she hoped it wasn't too soon.

With her acute smell, she smelled a dog, not, it was a wolf scent; it a werewolf, or in her terms, a very big dog, and at the recognition her tail beat with joy. She went upstairs to Hermione's room where she had a frame for Henri. Bill was pacing the room trying to figure out his next move, if he did something wrong they would all be dead. It was critical to get help in the next minutes for Robert's sake.

When he saw Camellia, he had new hope; he had seen the girl in action. "Camellia, I think you are more than a dog. Shake your head if you understand me." Camellia shook one head then did the same with her other two heads, to clear any doubts.

"You are some sort of minor demon, or a Hades creature, right?" She shook her heads emphatically; there weren't rules about answering, as long as she didn't actually talk to an adult either, mentally that was, she didn't posses of a voice box in her canine form. .

"You aren't allowed to speak a human language but you can do everything else, even read, right?" She moved the heads in a yes, and a no.

Bill laughed, "I guess she means sometimes." Yes, yes, he had studied about two dogs like her, very powerful, and they weren't allowed to talk. They were children of Cerberus in each instance, and giant dogs, but not this tiny furry beast. He scratched her ears, and she looked very happy. He had thought they were legends, but he now knew they were real.

She could read, but only simple words, she needed some lessons. Maybe this handsome wolf would teach her.

"Shit, I was right all along. Hermione owes me 250 Galleons, now I must make sure she makes it alive to collect." Camellia agreed, and he smiled with renewed hope.

He told her what to do. He was leaving the room when he heard several soft pops in the next room. Camellia went out towards the sound, and ran like a flash wagging her tail. Bill called her softly, "Stop it girl, don't go," but she was already gone, outside the door.

With the wand on his hand, he moved with great stealth, and he nearly screamed when a hand closed on his shoulder, "Fuck, Weasley, be quiet." It was Pucey.

"Fuck yourself; be careful the situation has deteriorated."

Bill whispered, and looked all around making sure he hadn't missed any Death Eaters. He had already closed the Floo; he didn't want more Death Eaters dropping in. Blaise came around with Camellia standing on his shoulder, perched as a bird, her balance was amazing. She loved Blaise he always brought her one treat or two, and it didn't hurt to be nice. She was very popular with the handsome wizards, but she liked Bill the best.

Bill briefed them. "Open a window, Aurors could be outside but they might not know the lay of the house." Flint said, "but no waiting around, let's go."

Bill told Camellia, "Your turn princess, remember change frames and bark." In a few seconds, Camellia was back at the frame. She barked like crazy, running through the air tunnels between time and space known to her, and reappeared at Snape's frame growling and non-stop barking.

"Fucking mutt, "Rowle was sending hexes into the frames, not understanding they were real frames, not windows or doors; therefore, his hexes had not impact, and he was just destroying the painting.

"Kill the mutt, she is killer, some kind of demon, kill her." Crabbe screamed, he was not afraid of much, but the thought of Hades filled him up with angst; his grandfather had practiced the old religion, and told his father and him that their ticket to Hades was a sure thing.

Nils' friend, Palu, was growing scared. His gift was to see when death came for others, and he could see a black shroud nearly covering Nils' face. Nils who had dragged him into this mess, it had been fun for a while but it wasn't anymore. He wanted to go back and do his time, maybe learn something at their studies center, just like Mr. Goyle and not just die at eighteen years of age. Many at prison admired Mr. Goyle, he was told that the young Lord had been a bad Death Eater and he now was a trained healer and a solicitor. He was even best friends with the healers. He could be like him and instead he let Nils to drag him into murkier situations.

Silas and Jerry had enrolled for classes the next day. They all had a meeting with other new arrivals, and both signed up for the program and started it right away. Just hours after talking to the Azkaban counselor for young inmates; they had been good but troubled students, and their parents had little money. He should have followed them instead of thinking it was macho to be a bad ass.

Just a few days ago, they had showed him their homework, a project. They were being taught how to make basic healing potions and had access to the potions area to work. They were both training to be healer-assistants, and would have jobs upon completing their terms. Silas and Jerry had met Mr. Goyle, and he had told them that he would personally hire them if and when he had a business. No chance for Palu now. What they had done to Miss Granger, was a monstrosity. It filled him with shame.

He wished he had listen to Pa and to Ma, they weren't' rich, but neither poor, and had reminded him that there was no honor in following blood supremacists. He wouldn't listen, and Nils kept talking about chasers he had known, and all the money they had put away and blah, blah, blah. And he believed it was all true because Scabior had that nice pub.

Nils had woken him up and dragged him out he day they escaped; he remembered the killing of all those guards protecting the Portal, not him or Nils, two of the older Wizards were the doers, what a mess; he still had nightmares. He had heard of the golden Trio, and they had two of them as hostages; his parents would die of shame. And the nice lady, being touched, and stripped when she was with baby; Merlin, he just hoped Aunt Hazel would never find out. She had married a wizard with money, and had promised to help him if he changed. He wished he had listened just once.

Palu was getting sick with fear; he could now see shrouds over all their heads, but he could not see himself. He needed to change sides. How could he do it? He prayed to his Nana's god and right there in front of his eyes, he was suddenly aware of the how.

He saw the shadows coming outside towards the room, "Boss, should I go and check around just by the fireplace with the Floo and make sure it is closed?"

"Good thought, be careful, we don't want more injured or dead, stand by there as we move our hostages, be ready to open it, and have powder on hand as soon as we are ready to go." Crabbe told him. He wanted to be gone from here.

"Yes, and if somebody comes out you will be the first to go," Rowle smirked.

As Palu left the room with his back to them, he made a sign to the shadows, and told them to stay put. He knew they couldn't see the corner where Rowle held the hostages.

Bill and Pucey saw his sign; they felt his fear and both new that the young wizard wanted out, his face was begging them. He was very young, probably not even eighteen and they felt sorry for him.

As he was going by them, he whispered, "By the corner, Rowle has moved them all in, and he has bound your friends, the dog is barking and making them crazy."

"Palu, what the fuck, who are you talking to?" Rowle was in overdrive.

"I am singing; I am talking to the wall, fuck. I am trying to calm myself, this is all very creepy. We are fucked, I know, I can see it, it is my gift." Palu answered angrily.

"Wait there and cover us, just in case. The idiot mongrel will not quit barking," Rowle agreed. He had an awful feeling, and the dog was not letting him think, or for that matter hear around them. And how the hell was the mutt going back between the frames, this was fucking spooky. He heard the Muggle witch was very powerful, if so, he hoped she didn't wake up.

He needed to concentrate and the bark had an infernal, bewitching quality to it. It made him want to scream in fear, and he could feel demons all around him. That was the intent, Camellia could sound to those who fear her, as if demons were growling..

Crabbe, Yaxley and Rowle had been ready to leave for a while. They had already bound Greg, Draco, Harry and Lucius. Needless to say, the four wizards were all very angry and frustrated, and wondered where the hell Snape was and what had happened to Henri. Only a few minutes had passed, but each minute seemed an eternity. It was to be expected, after all there were many lives hanging by a thread.

Greg knew that today had been a big hoax, happiness didn't have his name in her book; he also knew whenever he was free, he was killing these wizards if anything happened to either of his two witches.

Crabbe had earlier issued a couple of minor healing spells to control the blood flow from Nils and McNair, and casted a "_Vulnera Sanentur_," but most healing spells had bad results coming from very dark wizards, and he did not have the right energy for it, although some minor effects were achieved. He had, however, not helped the two fallen witches, wanting to preserve his magic for defense purposes.

Bill wanted to cast the same healing charms for Robert but he would disclose their location. They were waiting for a small window of opportunity, or go and charge at the end of the backwards countdown; Bill was at 12 of the countdown, the other three wizards, under a temporary concealment charm, were ready to attack.

Crabbe had casted a_ 'Wingardium Leviosa' _to levitate the bodies of the fallen. He planned to leave the four wizards tied in place. He couldn't think straight, and he screamed to Camellia, "Shut up, I cannot think!" the obedient dog paid no mind tr, her barks were so loud that any other noise was being drowned.

"Pigs, you must heal Robert, and the women, do something," Lucius demanded for the umpteenth time, and they ignored him.

"I will pick up the mudblood bitch; she has a fine pair of tits, she will do for quick shag." Rowle said while bending to pick up Hermione. However, at the moment he touched her, he screamed very loud, and his body glowed. The smell of charred flesh filled up the room, and he went down hard. His body twitched and the lower arm color of burned charcoal and still smoked.

Greg, Lucius, Draco and Harry, all saw the lighting shaped, magic stream coming out Hermione's belly. Their reactions were all the same, however, Lucius was the only one who had heard of very magical children protecting their mother, and she had three, all from powerful wizards. It was awesome to see the babies protected their mother with deadly force, and it broke their hearts to see how they had to use it.

Looking at Rowe his hand was blackened and he was alive, his chess rose and fell, and his limbs were twitching from the magical discharge. The hand and part of the arm were cooked, and the smell was nauseating. Crabbe and Yaxley had both seen the flash coming out the pregnant witch's belly, and they were really scared for once.

Crabbe had his wand pointed to Hermione. He was getting rid of her, plans had changed, and she needed to go, they could extract what they needed fast. He started whispering one word to cast a hex and wasn't quite finished, when his attention was diverted. A bright, hissing, red light hit him right on the middle of the chest; he went down looking surprised and bleeding from many places.

The hex had come from Palu, who had issued a variation of the _**Sectumsempra, **_very popular after the war. This was the cue for all of the ones to take Yaxley down, who smartly threw the wand down, and raised his arms.

Yaxley thought that he was getting to old for this crap; maybe take a page from Lucius, Lestrange and the others who were now all out. He was signing for whatever poncy classes, and would stay away from the trouble makers. He hoped the rest of the motley crew didn't make an entrance. He would have to do like Palu and jump to the other side. Enough was enough, if the new aspiring Dark Lord should come to pass, he would reconsider, or not. He wanted OUT, for good, his heart couldn't take much more of this.

Pucey stood by Palu; he did not trust him that much. The young wizard threw his wand far away, and sat on the floor looking exhausted and shaking, the eighteen year old had tears in his eye, and kept saying, "I'm sorry, I am sorry Aunt Hazel." Bill thought he looked about fourteen, and he was sad for all the damage that poverty caused. They had been luckier than most.

First things first, the Aurors had just arrived, and the ones who knew healing took care of Robert first. It didn't look well for the Muggle; they didn't think he would make it. One Auror left with him right away. The wizards were released and everyone left for Mungo's.

Rabastan was holding Irina's hand with tears in his eyes. His hands were covered with blood, her head had been hurt during the fall, and he wasn't sure of the hex, but her arm and back both had deep gashes. He loved her and had for a long time. He wanted to marry her and had asked her, but she had turned him down every time. She didn't want to betray Francois, and when he came out of Azkaban, she was with the Muggle, Irina, his first and only love; he had loved her since she was fifteen.

He just wanted to take care of her or be a friend. He knew of Robert Granger, and in his delusion had gone by his surgery and talked to him. He explained to him about triads, and how so many ones had been formed in his own family. Robert told him that it was up to Irina, but he wasn't comfortable with the idea, and he didn't like blokes. He told him triads many time just shared the spouse who was of different sex than the other two, and not their own bodies. He would benefit from their magic being with them all the time, and his family had secrets to share magic even further.

"It is Irina's call. Call her and we can all talk, I am here for her." He had told her. Robert had recently told him that he would soon arrange the meeting and now this.

Greg was holding his mother while looking at Hermione being taken away. A couple of minutes later, both Irina and Hermione had been taken away by the healers.

Bill picked up Camellia and they followed.

Greg heard Lucius whispering to Draco, "Son we must talk, you need to marry Hermione and take care of her." And Draco answered, "Yes father, I was thinking just the same."

* * *

A/N. This chapter had little changes from the original one, but the following ones will change some.


	11. The injured, the sick, and the dying

**Disclaimer: **All JKR. Thanks to her. I only owe Camellia and the story.

Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing. This story will contain adult situations later.

This story is dedicated to Savva my dear friend, and Irmorena who has always rooted for me. I am humbled to have found so many wonderful people along the way, wonderful readers who I wish I could meet personally, to you all one more yarn I have woven for you.

**At the last chapter the injured witches and Hermione's father were being taken to St Mungo's. **

**At St Mungo's **

They all waited, for what it seemed hours, just to hear news. Everyone was quiet, and moist eyes were present in everyone waiting for news. Hermione was a hero, and her work for both the Light and Dark factions had won her a powerful following. Most of the ones standing and waiting owe something to her, or had a close personal relationship. Her pregnancy made it altogether too much.

Bill stood and held Camellia, today's hero. The hospital attendants did not dare to admonish the powerful group of wizards. Dogs weren't allowed, but who would tell this dangerous group, there weren't volunteers for the job. They all looked angry and powerful enough to make you afraid, not to mention that several were notoriously dangerous Dark Wizards. It was best to pretend they weren't aware of the infraction to established rules.

They knew of the affection that Hermione held for Irina, and it was now known that Irina was pregnant with Robert's baby. And that Hermione would not be well if her sibling was hurt. This alone was a concern to everyone.

Rabastan was not disguising his pain; he had stopped caring when he had seen her bleeding and in such a state. The love for he had always felt for her made him feel helpless and the thought of her dying filled him with panic and anger. He wanted to personally kill the bastards who were involved.

Lucius, Draco and Harry were of the same opinion. They were going to personally kill each one who had hurt the witches, and whoever had masterminded the operation.

The babies' magic was very powerful, they were protecting their mommy, and Lucius was proud of them. They had never seen something Harry was thinking about the incident,

"Mr. Malfoy, I was thinking about Hermione's babies; I think they sent an electrical discharge into Rowle." Lucius didn't understand what electrical discharge was.

"It was strong magic, very powerful babies. They one who are involved will not see the light of day come tomorrow if Hermione doesn't improve," was Malfoy Sr.'s answer.

Lucius could not stop thinking of the three new Malfoys with magic unheard of it before; neither could he wait to hold all of them in his arms. He didn't want to share them with anyone else but the Malfoys. . He would talk personally to Hermione, and beg her to go accept Draco and Harry in a triad.

He thought about the idea for a while, and found a better proposition, to marry just Draco. Yes, he would make it happen. Hermione was a Malfoy and should stay as one. He had seen Greg's eyes, and he hadn't like it one bit. Not even if he thought of Greg as his son after the prison. Family was first, and Hermione was his daughter and a Malfoy, that was all.

Lucius wasn't the only one who was thinking about the future. Harry wanted to talk to Draco, and let him know that he decided to marry Hermione, and undo his union with Draco. It pained his heart. However after almost loosing her tonight, his eyes had opened. If her ideas about a triad where unchanged, then he chose her.

After all, Harry loved her at least as much as he loved Draco. He was dammed confused remembering the soul sickness experienced when she had met and married Henri. He had been sick with jealousy, and Draco worried all the time that Harry would abandon him. However, along the way he also realized that he didn't want to hurt Draco.

Draco just wanted her to be well. He loved Harry, and was grateful for Hermione and her forgiving nature. He had been so rotten and mean to her. He needed to make plans with Harry on how to bring their witch into their lives. She was a wonderful person, and he loved her.

There was a slight glitch, even before Hermione became pregnant, he started wondering what love was, and if he loved Harry or Hermione more. He had never been into blokes until Harry, and he had thought that Hermione would go for the triad. Well, he was happy to be with Harry, and they would be happier if she would come with the two of them; and now? He just didn't know, all he knew was that Hermione had to be his.

The conflict he had was the idea of thinking of Hermione with someone else; it didn't sit well with him. And he was sure, that if Hermione had been living with him, the attack wouldn't have been possible. What made it worse was seeing Greg's eyes, and she had been with him, that much was clear. Greg Goyle, damn he had changed a lot in Azkaban during the last three years, he could be a problem.

Greg wanted his witch; he had loved her too long from afar. Albeit his thoughts of worthiness for her, he no longer cared if he wasn't. He could still feel her lips around his cock; it had been but a few hours. Just thinking about it made his mouth go dry. He closed his eyes, and she was freshly imprinted in his memory. Hell, he had whipped his fingers on his tunic's sleeve. He put the sleeve close to his nose and her smell waft into his nose. It was surely not right, but he wanted to have her fingers touching and around him. He excused himself for a minute, and ran to the loo.

He was sweating profusely as he released his hardened penis from the confines of the trousers. He closed his eyes, and wrapped his hand around it, first lubricating it with his own release. Moans threatened to escape his lips, as he put his arm against his face. It was her scent. In a couple hard strokes, he came in spurts, and tears rolled as he remembered Nils taking her clothes off. He sat on the loo with his hand still dripping, he was disgusted with himself, and hoping against hope she would be well and would be his.

He would accept any of her decisions, even sharing her with his best friend. Although, he knew it would be hard, he would do whatever she wanted. He had not pride. Wait, there couldn't be any kissing Draco or Harry, he wanted to gag thinking about it.

However, first she needed to be better, and he needed to eliminate any dangers, take them away from her. His mother and Robert, it broke his heart, poor his mommy, she deserved to be happy, he had the feeling Robert wouldn't be of this world for much longer.

**At the Aurors' offices-**

The injured dark wizards were also being attended. The news about Rowle were grim, he might not survive, there also had been damage to the internal organs, and the pain of having your arm fried, had put him in severe shock. The feeling was that he was a good as gone.

Camellia had done a lot of damage to McNair and Nils, but overall it hadn't been as bad as it first appeared.

Palu had been taken away by the aurors and was being interrogated; Adrian had gone with them to tell them how Palu had basically saved them. It seemed as if all would be O.K. for the young man.

Adrian had already told the Aurors that Palu's case was theirs; he had decided to defend the young wizard. He was probably the one who had ended this standoff with the least blood spilled. He knew about wrong decisions having made many on his own. If he could he would get him released and would sponsor the young wizard himself. After all, saving Granger was saving his own firm. She was the brains and had made it to what it was.

The Aurors were interrogating Yaxley and Crabbe Sr. The later was in bad shape but he could talk, and was partially healed, "Crabbe, Yaxley, make it easy on yourselves, who is working with you, how were you able to get into Mrs. Malfoy- Granger's home?" Neither was talking, so it was time for Veritaserum.

At the end there was no need for Veritaserum since Yaxley asked if he could use the Loo. He told the Auror that accompanied him that they all were hiding in Crabbe's former home. Palu didn't even know where they were. He wanted to talk but without Crabbe Sr., who knew a way into the home, bypassing all the wards.

Yaxley had in effect jumped to the other side, seeing Lucius talking to the Aurors as a respectable citizen, the young Pucey speaking up for Palu had cinched for him. He felt as if a weight of fifty stone had been lifted for him. He felt strangely free, no more underground associations for him, time to play respectable citizen.

There were a couple secret rooms in the west wings of Crabbe Manor. It was time to go and check, but they needed the wards down, and Hermione, who had placed the wards, was still out, and fighting for her life.

**The injured**

One of the hexes had hit head, and a large blood cloth was logged in her brain. Besides that, the babies were at risk to lose their lives as her body went into shock.

Robert was in very bad shape, he had little to zero chances to survive. Had lost a lot of blood, and one of his lungs had collapsed. Over half of his shoulder was also gone; he more than likely wouldn't make it through the night. Lacking magic, his body didn't heal as fast as others, the Mungo personnel didn't have experience with Muggles and could only hope for the best. Blaise had proposed that instead of blood replenishing potions, to try a Muggle type of direct blood supply which seemed not only barbaric, but blood magic, however, Blaise knew how to gather Robert's blood and took a sample to be matched with one of them. His hope was an untried theory of his would work.

Greg heard Muctis was the best; maybe there would be some hope. Even if he could hang on for a while, to say goodbyes, he hoped for a miracle. Greg did not want either Irina, or Hermione to have that type of news. He was afraid the news of his death would push Hermione into her own demise, and he didn't want his mother to hurt once again.

He was more ashamed than ever to have associated with such scum, with the Death Eaters, it seemed so long ago, and he no longer remembered why he had done it.

Greg, Lucius, Draco and Harry were all around Hermione's bedside as soon as they were allowed. Lucius had called Healer Muctis, the best in the land. He was now working with Blaise and other young-bloods at the Center. He ordered a detailed MRI with contrast, and a C-T-Scan, to be paired with their healing magic.

With immediate results, and perfect accuracy, he directed his wand to the right coordinates and with the tested force for similar cases. In a perfect marriage of Wizarding and technology, he dissolved the clotted blood, and the danger passed. Then he proceeded to heal smaller internal injuries, and corrected a small injury suffered by one of the fetus, he refused to say which. It was now ready, waiting for the soul soon to inhabit the new body.

The wizards present held each other in a friendly embrace with great relief. Voices of witches could be heard outside. A deluge of ginger, brunettes and blond heads were invading the hallway, outside the room. Two blond witches came in; they were the two Malfoy Ladies, Narcissa and Evangeline. They came running to stand by Hermione and each touched her hand.

Evangeline Malfoy, nee Malfoy, loved the young witch, and the thought of one more death made her wish for her own grave. She went on her knees, and kissed the young witch's hand with fervor."Ma petite, my little girl, don't leave this old witch alone,"

Lucius rolled his eyes, she was 49 years old, hardly old, and that would make him nearly ancient at nearly 55. He hoped Eve would release her hold to have the young witch close to him. She would expect her to spend long periods in France with his grandchildren, and that wouldn't do. He needed to find a husband for her, one that would want children of his own. She was young enough to still birth a child.

Narcissa was also talking to Hermione, caressing her forehead. "Be strong, you are loved by many," and then gently patted the younger witch's belly, "Be safe little babies, your grandmothers love you very much."

Lucius came by them and gave his cousin and then Cissa a great big hug. "She is ok, the babies are fine, these babies are like none before them," and for a moment they were all quiet.

Hermione opened her eyes, "Daddy, where is my dad." Apparently she knew, they weren't sure how, but she did.

"Princess, he is next door, Healer Muctis is with him." Draco told her. He caressed her face gently; making Greg's heart beat furiously. It wasn't jealousy; it was envy that he knew her so well to touch her without any regards for property.

"No, I need to see him; I don't want him to die. No more deaths, no more," she was breathing hard.

Greg went running to get help and found Blaise. He came in and with a wave of his wand made her go to sleep.

"She shouldn't be getting upset. It is harmful to both her and the babies. You all need to know, one the babies seems to be in distress, Muctis did some corrections, but is still too early to know. It must have been during the fall." He also looked worried and not doing well.

She was well liked by many. Furthermore, she had major influence in the lives of the Death Eaters. Thanks to her initiatives wizards like Greg, Lucius and many more had a new lease on life. If someone had chosen a martyr to make everyone upset, they couldn't have done a better job.

At this the room went quiet. Greg excused himself and left the room to go and see his Mommy once more. Rabastan was sitting at her side, holding her limp hand and appeared both distressed and upset.

"Shh, she had to be given a draught. Poor Irina, she was getting hysterical crying for Robert Granger. I want her to be happy, and if that means Granger, so let it be. Let me talk, I knew of your dislike for me whenever you thought I used your mother during the Dark times. I wanted to marry her, but your brother Francois wouldn't allow it, and challenged me. I think he also loved your mother, but cannot be sure. You need to know, I didn't want her to be my whore that was the Dark Lord, not I. I loved her then, and haven't stopped since the day I danced we danced at her presentation ball as Lady Goyle."

Greg was confused because he knew Rabastan to be telling the truth. He also knew that his mother resented Rabastan asking for her all the time. He now knew that she had wanted her stepson, and didn't want to accept Rabastan in her bed.

Not his brother, his father, Francois was his father, and he wished so that he was alive. He was one of the many lost and never found; like so many of the dead blown to pieces and lost forever, just like Vince burned to ashes.

It was at this present moment when he finally understood Rabastan's dilemma. What if Hermione decided to marry the handsome wizards, Harry and Draco? He had seen how Harry looked at her, and had seen Draco's face as well, they really loved his witch. And who was he? He was the Rabastan in that union. Hermione couldn't care about somebody like him; face it, who was he when she had Harry and Draco. And like Rabastan, he would accept anything to be close to her, he had no pride when Granger was concerned.

Fat tears were flowing down Greg's cheeks. Rabastan misunderstood, and stood up to hold the younger man by his shoulder. "Son, don't cry, Irina will be fine, and Robert will also be ok. This has been a terrible day, and it's unfortunate that we cannot let down our guards."

Rabastan hesitated to say the rest, "Apparently, there is an underground movement, and there were more escapees that the six. Their target was and still is Mrs. Malfoy-Granger, she is one very rich witch and they knew of her pregnancy. Think about it, she is carrying Malfoy and Potter babies; consequently she is worth her weight on gold and then some. Until the rest aren't caught, things don't look good for her or maybe even for Irina. They knew of Robert Granger's love for her. Irina wasn't a mistake; they knew what they were doing."

Greg's anger rose to hear those words, "Nobody will touch one of Hermione's hairs again, for as long as I shall live. I don't care if she doesn't want me when she awakes, but I will take care of her. Same goes for my mother. If you would please excuse me, when my mother awakes tell her I had to go."

He went out the room looking for the Aurors, there were only two posted outside the rooms. "Where are the other Aurors? Have you seen Flint?"

"They are trying to see how to get in Malfoy-Granger's Manor, the former Crabbe Manor; they think others might still be there."

Greg just realized he didn't even have a wand. It had been taken away from him by those goons. And in the confusion he forgot it. Of course, if that was her home—Crabbe Manor, was it really Hermione's home now? Wow, it all made sense, the Floo was opened for her from Crabbe Manor to Robert's home, and they had used it. But how did Crabbe go passed the new wards, which she surely had raised?

He heard Hermione's scream from inside her room. It made little sense, he thought she would be out for a while, and then he heard Camellia barking very angry, and a small explosion come out her door. Who had brought a dog to the hospital? Oh, yes Camellia. He ran.

* * *

**The sick and the dying**

Robert was feeling a strong pull. He was being called into a a very tiny warm place; he wanted to go; he would be with his love Irina, not as a lover, as her child. He wished, however, he could hold on. Dear Lord, help him hang on. He could see Helen waiting for him, and he also wanted to go to her, but he had a new child waiting for him. He was conflicted, he should stay, yet, he didn't want to hope, he was afraid it wouldn't be possible. He wanted to be happy with his decision because he would dread being an earthbound spirit. And his sweet baby girl, Hermione, she had suffered too much pain, he needed to stay.

Next door, at Hermione's room, Greg threw the door open; the Auror at the door had been knocked out; Blaise was lying on the floor, and Camellia had someone against the wall. Whoever was against the wall, had a wand and was fixing to cast a spell on Camellia.

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A/N: Review comments are always appreciated. Sorry this story keeps hitting rough spots. I like stories that happen during a short frame of time. this chapter had a lot of changes from the original.


	12. Danger and healing

Disclaimer JKR Rules

Last time:

Greg was at his mother's room when he heard Hermione screams and he ran.

* * *

**Hermione's is not safe, not yet**

Next door, Greg arrived at Hermione's room and without hesitation he threw the door open; the Auror at the door had been knocked out; Blaise was lying on the floor, and Camellia had someone against the wall. Whoever was against the wall, had a wand and was fixing to cast a spell on Camellia.

Greg's eyes could not believe what he saw, a ball of fire, or a ball that exploded and caught on fire, came out of one of the small dog's mouths, and knocked the wand out the person's hand, which was followed by a blood chilling scream, and a string of foul curses.

The smoke was dissipating; a dark robbed figure was on the floor, he saw the face, it was Dolohov, "Bastard, get up," Greg screamed, and pointed the wand he picked up at the Russian Death Eater's side.

"First, get that monster out the room, it is a demon," Dolohov actually looked afraid.

"She stays, and she isn't a demon." Greg replied, without firm conviction, who knew what the girl was, but evil she wasn't.

"What are you doing here? Never mind let me guess?" Greg hadn't seen that the room was getting full of people.

"You must be the one behind the carnage earlier, and if you are, you have forfeited your life. If anyone of my family should perish today, and yes, Robert Granger counts, I will personally kill you. If I have to go Azkaban for it, so be it." Greg's voice had a hard edge to it, it sounded cold and uncaring.

"Greg, come here, let someone else take care of him," it was Harry, "Hermione is awake, and she is asking for you."

Dolohov attempted to move towards Hermione's bed. Greg kicked the dark wizard's gut, "Stay," he barked and a nasty snarl followed.

Two Aurors came forth, and picked up Dolohov from the floor. To Greg's delight, the dark wizard's robe was shredded, and the trousers hadn't fare better, he bum was bleeding, the girl must had taken a piece, and he had kicked the other cheek. Good team work, he thought.

"What a good girl, hope you took a good chunk of him. We can only hope his flesh doesn't poison you." Greg's voice wasn't happy, he actually hoped that Camellia had injured the bastard, and judging by the blood drips, she had.

Camellia panted loud, as she tried to climb up Greg's leg. The extra-heads were gone; so, he bent down and put 'the girl' up on his shoulder. She perched on his shoulder, and stood up as if she was a bird of prey. He heard a few chuckles across the room, she really enjoyed the perching business, same as she had done with Bill, and she was well balanced.

One of the younger Aurors said, "If Camellia is looking for a job as an Auror, there is an opening waiting for her."

Everyone laughed, and a soft voice said, "I don't think so, she is mine," it was Hermione.

Greg stood by Hermione's side. She was pale, and he wanted to kill someone just looking at her bruised face. Behind him, the Medi-wizards tended Blaise and Adrian. Both had been knocked out cold, and Adrian had cracked his head when falling, he was being taken out the room.

"Greg, my father, I must see him. He is dying, please, please take me to him. I cannot let him go." She pleaded in a strangled voice.

"Princess, no and no; kitten, you cannot move," Greg pleaded with her. The thought of more harm come her way was intolerable.

"Hermione, dear love, I will ask if I can carry you," Harry intervened, suddenly aware of what Greg had just said, and he didn't like Greg's princess, and kitten endearments, not one bit. His stomach was sour at the thought, and if looks could kill, Greg would have died where he stood.

_What was up with that? Just because their parents were marrying, he feels entitled to terms of endearment, just after a couple days? It couldn't have been more than a couple days_, Harry thought. And why was she asking for him? Something akin to jealousy reared its ugly head inside Harry's mind. No question, it was jealousy, pure and poisonous.

Draco, who was also in the room, was fuming as well. Since when, was Greg, or this improved version, in such chummy terms with his Malfoy princess. A Malfoy was too much for a Goyle, he was way out of his league. And why was his princess calling for Greg, and giving him a loving look, no, no, and no, this must be nipped right before it grew on more inch, before it progressed any further, his dad was right.

Greg caught the edge of Harry's voice and decided to ignore him. "Harry, she is talking to me. Please, if you don't mind."

He sat on the bed with Camellia still perched on his shoulder, grabbed Hermione's hand, brought it to his lips, and he gave her a small kiss. She smiled in the midst of her tears. And pulled his hand to her face and he laid his hand on her cheek. The look they were giving each other was unmistakable.

The other two wizards were aghast at the gesture; both had seen the way that Hermione was looking at Greg.

Both were, predictably, thinking along the same lines, it went something like this, 'How_ could she? She is carrying our babies, she is ours. No, it could not be happening with Greg, not the Greg Goyle from Hogwarts, but this new Greg, hmm, maybe. When did it happen? We check on her daily, not today she refused to see us all day long, always busy. Not busy, she was hardly at the office today, and she was with him at her house with Greg. Of course her father is Lady Goyle's fiancé. But it won't happen; I must be dreaming and it cannot come to pass._'

"Hermione, you cannot get up, the healer said you must stay in bed, no moving." Greg insisted.

"I have to, please carry me, not Harry you, please, now, before it is too late, or I will Apparate," she meant it.

The Malfoys were now at the door, as well as her mother-in-law. The Malfoy women recognized her determination and knew that resisting her would be futile.

**Healer's hands and donating magic.**

Blaise was coming around, "Greg, pick her up gently, levitating her might be best."

A few seconds later, Hermione was in her father's room.

At his sight, she broke in sobs. "Bring me closer, please."

Draco and Harry had managed to push Greg away, Lucius smiled with delight. Goyle wouldn't have their Hermione; he had talked to Evangeline who was fuming, and to Cissa who was aghast.

Eve didn't want anyone for her daughter, maybe when the baby was older, but not now, she wanted to enjoy her grandson and her daughter; her husband had been killed, her son as well, she had rights, and this new beau wasn't going to get in the middle. Draco, she could bully, but the handsome wizard would want exclusive rights.

A new person was standing by the door, it was Rodolphus. He had heard about Dolohov, and was afraid. He had remembered Bella talking about her Master making a Horcrux for her. He was afraid that she could be behind the events which had transpired this day.

No, he couldn't go back to her. He had changed a lot. He still was a dark wizard, but he wasn't a maniac as Bellatrix, nobody was. She had dragged them in all her vicious crusades, and he regretted most of them. He loved all magic and power, but not the evil shit that Bella loved. Besides, he wanted a respectable life, most of his adult life he had spent it a Azkaban, he wasn't an idiot, and Bella mean a non-return trip to prison. And for the real reason, he had his eye on Evangeline Malfoy. She wasn't very receptive, but he didn't care about that, there was time.

She was still in the age to bear children, and he had his own ideas on how to attract her. He had known her since they were very young. She would soon be in the city, and he would put his plans to work. He would put the Lestrange charm to work, and he had already talked to Rabastan, they had hid the dark books and dark objects to remote Lestrange holdings. She would not tolerate any of that. She wasn't the triad type, which was ok, because Rab had given his heart away nearly thirty years ago. One of the two needed children, and he might have to be the one.

Hermione knew she had to quit sobbing. Blaise first enlarged Robert's bed; then gently and carefully placed Hermione by her father.

"Father, please listen to me, it isn't your time. Do you remember what you promised? I do, that you would not leave me. I am going to place my hands on your shoulder; I need you to hold them from wherever you are. Only you can make it happen. Look for my hand, the one with the half moon that shines under my ring finger."

Robert's eyes fluttered, Hermione stretched her hands with great effort; even in her diminished state her magic was still strong. Those in the room could see a soft blue glow around her hands. She placed them over the torn shoulder. The shoulder was glowing blue; it was the same shade of her hand's glow, and gradually only the shoulder was glowing intensely.

Hermione's eyes were closed. "Daddy, please look for my hands, hold them."

Not a peep in the room. Harry and Draco both had seen her performing minor healings, but never something this big. They both had seen the half moon, but it did not glow. Harry bent on his knees, and he whispered, "Draco come and look."

A narrow beam of light was projected from around Hermione's ring finger, right where the birth mark should be. It had a tinge of green, and she had other moles and small birth marks that were either blue or green. Although uncommon, others were said to have them as well, but this was distinctive.

Robert wanted to rest, in one stream of consciousness, Helen, his young Helen, dressed in her wedding night gown, and was beckoning him to a bed of marital delights, one far, far away. The pull, one shaped like a bridge, he could see where it ended, inside Irina's belly. The small fetus was ready for the soul and was calling him. The idea of living again appealed to him. The idea of not abandoning the ones he loved was even more tempting.

He was going to let his passing decide for him. Wherever it called, he was very tired and wouldn't resist it. He wanted to go.

As he was leaving this realm, he saw a half moon bright on the darkness of his reality. He heard his beloved child. The one, he had failed time and time again. She needed him, too much suffering for this young woman, but she was so far away, so far,

"Daddy, you promised—hold my hand—look at the light of the moon, keep looking."

He tried to concentrate and was loosing the battle.

Greg was observing, and noticed that Hermione was at the end of her strength and wanted her to stop trying; he was afraid for her.

Harry and Draco were thinking something along those lines, and as if in accord, they all put their hands on the injured witch, and tried to channel their magic energy through their touch.

The glow around her hands and the shoulder just got stronger. Robert was climbing a long staircase, at the end he could see a light, it wasn't easy, and he remembered the go towards the light. Was that good or bad? He could hear many voices, some said come and some go. He let his love for his family make a decision for him. He was too tired; he felt a stronger pull towards the light beam.

Muctis was monitoring Robert, while Blaise kept his scanner on, an invention of his. Actually, Robert Grant Granger had helped him. Besides being a dentist, he had first studied some kind of engine-erer or something like it; it had to do with Muggle _Electriks, _[sic]. They had created a scanner to pinpoint the illness source. Robert had said it was the same concept application of a Muggle, diagnostic tests. Arthur Weasley had helped him. The one he held was powered with magic and several electronic widgets; this one had chips with memories of the symptoms of all known magical illnesses.

Blaise said, "Hermione's heart has slowed down. Two more minutes max then you have to pull her away, one of the baby's heartbeats is quite faint." Blaise was also thinking to give Robert the blood that matched with his. It was ready, the donor had accepted, but wanted to remain anonymous. He made a decision, to connect Robert to the blood. The implications were many, a theory he had, and what better time than this.

The three wizards, had the impression they were inside a dark pit, and there was a figure, it was far away. Then they all saw the hand, only a pair of hands. And then they were in the room, looking at their beloved witch.

"Hermione, grab the hands," It was Blaise; he saw ghostly hands near hers; they were outside of the shoulder, but there were no arms or body attached to them.

Hermione's hands disappeared. It was as if they had gone into her father's body.

Next thing, her body gave up, and she fainted. "To her room, she needs to be in her bed, call the healer-assistants; they need to bring the breathing tent." Blaise could see in the hand held device, Hermione's magic and aura just evaporating. She was dying.

Muctis was applying some plasters on Robert's shoulder and kept shaking his head. Blaise Accio the machine which he had readied and connected to his patient's arm. He had concealed the blood to appear as a clear fluid, and the magic blood dripped through Robert's system. It was Harry's blood, they matched.

Harry, Draco and Greg, just stayed there, the trio standing by Robert's bed while they pulled Hermione away.

Just after she left, Robert coughed, "Mimi, where have you gone, I am back."

Muctis kept shaking his head, he was pointing at Robert's shoulder, the wound had closed, there was a thin scar and the large piece of flesh, had just grown back, reconstituted. You needed magic in your body for this to happen.

Robert had not magic, if he did, was negligible, but the results were the same. He waited five minutes, and tested him for magic, and the magic around him had increased considerably. He wasn't going to say anything, this raised too many questions. It was better never to mention it. Maybe his daughter had given him magic, this could never be known.

The old healer looked at the ones left in the room, "He is going to be ok. I will go and tell your mother," he told Greg, "She is coming around."

Blaise laughed, "Hermione is also coming back, amazing."

The three wizards smiled at each other. All happy for the witch, and right at that moment there were no bad feelings between them. They knew that Robert's improvement would be good for Hermione, and they all left the room. Blaise pulled his scanner, and tested again. Wait, the magic was all around Robert, but his smile faded, the magic was more concentrated around the shoulder and spreading throughout all the cells. There wouldn't be a way to tell.

Hermione was coming around, it was Draco who ran to her and told her, "Granger, my love, your father is going to be fine."

Rabastan who had just come into the room was a bit saddened by the news, but happy for Irina. He knew that she loved the Muggle, he had talked to Robert before, and he was a good man. By Salazar, he wasn't proud when it concerned Irina, and he would talk to Hermione's father as soon as the opportunity presented itself, he would talk to him again. He was also allowed to hope.

He went to look for Rodolphus. He found out that his brother had left with Lucius to talk to the Aurors surrounding the Crabbe Manor. It appeared as if all was settling down, not really, he was not even close to the truth.

**Looking for clues**

Marcus Flint was talking to the senior Aurors. The young punk from Azkaban had told them how they had come in through an opening on the ground. They now were at Crabbe Manor; Palu wanted to show them the entrance, but was unable to locate the spot.

Everyone was upset at Palu, and Dawlish was by now certain that he was lying. Palu was telling them what he knew; he just didn't have enough information to uncover the hidden entrance. The place was rather large, and he couldn't get his bearings around the large area.

At Headquarters, they were not faring better. Crabbe Sr. kept smiling, a sinister smirk. Like he knew something they didn't, and were just waiting for something to give.

Yaxley wanted to tell them to be careful, all that he knew. He was in another room, but he could not open his mouth. Some type of hex. He couldn't write either, his hands were limp. He was trying his earnest to communicate to be careful. He wanted to tell them of the danger waiting for them. One young Auror noticed his opening and closing eyes, and tried.

"Are you trying to tell us something, blink once for yes and two for no?"

Yaxley blinked once.

"Do we have a Legilimency expert around here?"

"You weren't here before, he is protected, blocked."

Yaxley blinked once again.

The older Auror asked, "Is it related to your hide out?"

Yaxley blinked very hard.

"Is there danger waiting inside Crabbe Manor?"

Once again, he blinked strong. He wished, he could tell them. He looked around and saw an ABC book; someone's child had left behind. He looked towards it, blinking several times.

Dawlish had just come in. He noticed Yaxley's attention on the book. He picked up, "I will open the pages, I will read each letter slowly, if I encounter one I need to use, blink once, if you want me to go forward in the letters, close your right eye, if you want me to use a letter read we saw before, or used before close your left. If you want me to repeat the letter, we have just used, blink twice."

After thirty agonizing minutes, and improvements to their technique using their magic and producing possible names they had Dolohov, which they already knew, a waste. Then Manor, and the last ones, Bellatrix, Voldemort, blood, death, danger, Hermione, babies, galleons, and there wasn't enough time to figure out more or the order.

Yaxley was left to be locked in a heavily secured area, separated from Crabbe. The Aurors Apparated at the Manor and seemed they were just on time.

Rodolphus had also arrived with Lucius and were talking to Flint. And lastly, Greg and Harry arrived. It was finally agreed that Bill and Draco should stay behind.

Everyone felt the danger all around

**Irina's Dream**

At Mungos' Irina was dreaming. In her dream Francois was telling her that he would be her soon. Something about letting his soul free so he could come back to her, and he touched her belly.

"I will be where I always wanted to be, inside of you. And, I won't ever have to worry of ever losing you. I now how much you love your sons. Hope to see you in some months." In her dream, he kissed her and smiled.

In the next dream, she was inside a dank and dark place. Ah, a wine cellar. In a corner, in a big wooden crate, was Francois, not him, his dead body. Pale as marble, he was dead, his life force was gone, but his soul was trapped inside, and his body was being maintained fresh by a dark force.

Inside his heart, there was a dark sliver. If one would look very closely, one would see a very small figure. It was a woman with wild black curls. Evil emanated from it, Irina came even closer, and saw her face, and it was Bellatrix, her eyes were closed.

Francois was talking to her again, "Don't let my son near my dead body, it is only my body, I am not of this world, it is no longer me. I want to be freed. They will use Greg's blood to revive Bella. I am not sure but something with a baby, I will be trapped there with her, I cannot do that. She will then revive Voldemort. Not sure. Stop them, Greg must live."

Irina woke up, and she started screaming. "Please, someone quick." She tried standing up but all was in vain. She fell right back, she was too weak.

**At the Manor.**

Greg finally remembered when Dawlish and the other aurors arrived. They conveyed what they knew. Another Auror arrived; it was unbelievable that Dolohov had managed to escape. His cell was empty, and two aurors were in critical condition.

Harry knew something was askew but wasn't sure what.

Greg remembered the trap doors to a couple tunnels. They were common in homes from the period as an escape route. It usually started/ended at a cellar. Vince, after a while, had been too heavy while to fit through it. He tried to remember, and finally it came to him.

"Follow me," he told everyone. He wanted the threat removed and his mother and Hermione safe. It was Rodolphus face what worried him, his eyes showed fear, and he had never seen the Dark wizard afraid.

Indeed Rodolphus heart was beating loudly. He just knew what they were going to find, and he was not ready for it.

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A/N: Review comments are always appreciated.


	13. Death wants to collect

**1-2-3- Yup, counting my fingers and JKR still rules..Darn**

Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. This story will contain adult situations later.

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**At the Manor.**.

Greg remembered the trap doors to a couple tunnels. They were common in homes from their period as an escape route. It usually started/ended at a cellar. Vince, after a while, had been too heavy while to fit through it. He tried to remember, and finally it came to him.

"Follow me," he told everyone. He wanted the threat removed, and his mother and Hermione safe. It was Rodolphus face what worried him, fear was written all over it.

Indeed, Rodolphus heart was beating loudly. He just knew what they were going to find, and he wasn't ready for it. He had once an affair with evil, a short one, but the fallout would never stop.

And today, for our featured chapter

**Danger – Death wants to collect**

Indeed, Rodolphus heart was beating loudly. He just knew what they were going to find, and he wasn't ready for it. He had once an affair with evil, a short one, but the fallout would never stop. Memories of hushed conversation between Bella and Voldemort and old suspicions were feeding his fear.

The passage, the group was walking along, was dank with a pervasive a pervasive nasty smell. The stench of unused crawl spaces, humidity, rodent's nests, and other unpleasant scents, permeated the area, and the walls were covered with dust and spider webs.

Greg knew this passage, besides the other two which led to different areas. He used to go into the Manor's underground maze, and into the 'best scary rooms' with Vince, whenever he came in to play. The nanny-elf would follow them to get rid of vermin and to illuminate their explorations.

Once in a while, Draco and Theo would also come to play. True, Malfoy Manor was a lot more fun, it had real dungeons. In here, mostly abandoned storage areas, a couple of maybe holding areas for cargo, crawl spaces, and then there was the wine cellar, and the one room used as a potion lab during darker times, it was scary with the ancient torture devices. That was their favorite room, some of the tables and torture devices bore dark stains which Draco assured them they were dry blood.

**Lestrange's suspicions**

Rodolphus heard her voice calling, maybe it was his imagination, but it sounded like her. Where was Rabastan, he needed to warn him, he had the feeling they were being set up.

He had heard about Hermione from Evangeline Malfoy. Eva was a beautiful woman and his second chance. She was also a straight arrow, and if he was even indirectly involved with this; with a plot which nearly killed Hermione, she would never look at him again.

Rodolphus was concerned for Eva, Narcissa, for Lucius, for all of them. Had it not been for Hermione, each one of them would be rotting in a hellhole, in the Azkaban before all the reforms, forever. She had become a symbol of the new age, of change; a new way not appreciated by all, hell no.

She was their fighter, for good and for bad wizards; a justice champion for magic beings, and the imbeciles who had to come and hurt her. Hermione and her small group, from all the Hogwarts Houses, had a hand in all the reforms. This was the reason they were al ashamed, a Muggleborn had fought for justice once more, even if the new laws benefited the ones who had persecuted and killed her brethren; and to his horror, the same idiots had nearly killed her.

Was Bellatrix involved? She was dead, Merlin, at least, he hoped she was. He had been in love; she was so pretty, her magic dark and strong, and not inhibited in be; but beauty only goes so far, the honeymoon lasted less than a half year.

She was a psychopath, dark and evil, and she loved hurting others; her outrages got to him and to basically all of them. Rabastan hated her since day one. And the rest, well the rest was public record. It was a relief she was gone. The hold she had over the two brothers was gone with her. By the time they refused to her bidding, both were tortured.

Bella was never his; it was all about her Dark Lord. She loved him, and she would do it all for him. And Voldemort had wanted to have control over the Lestrange fortune, big donations from Count Lestrange were not enough, hence he arranged for the heir's marriage to his best disciple. Where was Rabastan, he wanted to know if he had felt Bella.

"I changed my mind let's go this other way, everyone very quiet." It was Goyle.

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**At Mungo's, a call for help.**

Rabastan had stayed behind; he didn't want to leave the women unprotected.

There was something about the set up which made him uneasy.

What he thought were Irina's muffled cries, were but strangled sobs.

"Irina, my love, thanks Merlin you are back."

Without thinking, the tall handsome wizard ran the very sick witch, fell on his knees next to her bed, grabbed her hand, and covered it with fervent kisses. Although, he usually didn't cry, tears of gratitude clouded his vision. He loved her and wanted her to live, even if she would never be his.

"Francois, he is at Crabbe's," Rabastan froze. Francois wasn't dead? He could not compete with Francois. Francois was his enemy, he had told him that Irina loved him, and he was Greg's father, but Rabastan had not cared. He loved Irina the moment he first saw her. It was at a Malfoy's Manor, Lucius and Narcissa's wedding, Irina had been what fifteen, sixteen?

_Flashback_

_"Lord Goyle, could you introduce me to your lovely granddaughter?" Rabastan was being polite; he thought more like great-granddaughter._

_She could not be a day over eighteen, and that was pushing it. The manner she was dressed was puzzling, her robes were not those of as a very young witch, instead her gown had a daring décolletage, a young woman trying to look older. All he could see was her, the tops of her ivory breasts, the slender naked back, and the long auburn hair, laced with threads of gold and shiny crystals. She was a goddess of feminine beauty. He wanted to loose himself inside of that body for the rest of his life. He was in love._

_Goyle let out a hearty, "You flatter me; I am too old to be her grandfather. I am just a lucky wizard."_

_Rabastan didn't understand what the man was saying, ramblings of an old fool, he thought arrogantly._

_They walked towards Irina, upon reaching the tall, exotic beauty he addressed Lestrange," Mr. Rabastan Lestrange may I have the pleasure to introduce you to my lovely new bride, Lady Irina Goyle."_

_She was even younger from near, and when she smiled it was love at first sight. He had given his heart to her, and she kept it. The initial shock of Goyle's declaration promptly faded as he fell under an enchantment that was still his jailer._

_After a dance, Goyle's son, some years older than Rabastan, stepped-in. He nearly pushed Rabastan aside, he held the young stepmother possessively, while Lord Goyle looked the other way. Francois danced with Irina what was left of the evening, and they danced like young lovers, their eyes never straying away. Rabastan was consumed with rabid jealousy all evening long, not from the old Lord, but from his son._

End of the Flashback.

"Irina, my love, what are you saying, slower, repeat slower." He still held her hand and kept his lips pressed to her palm. It had been so long since he had tasted her skin, he loved her and would do whatever she asked of him.

The door to the room had opened; Draco stood by the door with one of the older Aurors, and Camellia started whining when she saw Irina. At once, she tried to jump to greet her Mistress' friend.

Bill, who stood guard by Hermione's door, saw a strange shadow at the opposite end, and after a few seconds it disappeared into a closet, he ran after it. "I will be back in a second," were his last words before he took off after the shadow. The Auror left by the door was an older, experienced Auror. He kept an attentive watch.

"Greg, don't go, trap, Francois dead, Bellatrix waits, Hermio—." the effort was too much, her body was trembling, the forehead wet with cold sweat. The all heard the word Bellatrix, and Rabastan felt ill.

In her mind, she was telling him the entire dream. She wasn't well "Read, legilem…mind—," she fell unconscious.

"Do it or I will," Draco was not as good "Legilimens" as Lucius or even Rab, but she had told them something about Hermione and Bellatrix? After Voldemort, he knew the impossible could be quite possible. Hermione was in danger, maybe even Greg, and Camellia growled, as she struggle to jump, if that was any indication.

"Stay girl, quit squirming." He held her tighter, he knew Camellia was Hermione's child, and was not willing to risk her running off. He wasn't thinking correctly; his head was in an emotional turmoil.

Two rooms down, a second tragedy unfolded. A medi-wizard was dragging the body of a knocked-out Auror into with great alacrity; then, he ran by Hermione's bed.

Hermione slept, her father's healing had taken a toll on her. She had been put to sleep in a deep relaxation mode.

All happened at once, Bill had just opened the door to the closet, when he heard a thud. It was close to the full moon, and his hearing was enhanced. The thud was coming from the rooms where his friends were. He ran back, damn, shit, he had been duped, not Hermione, not her.

Camellia had to nip Draco, she must get away; she wanted to be gentle, oops a little too hard, apologies later she had a job to do. She jumped and ran and as the Auror went after her, Draco held him back.

Meanwhile, Rabastan not wanting to loose a second, placed his right hand on Irina's forehead. What he saw, before Bill's loud call for help interrupted him, was a naked man tied to something, but was he frozen? And who stood by his side if not Bellatrix, farther there was a baby suspended in the air by a tube of some sort, at his left there was an adolescent, bounded and gagged, his forehead bleeding. Rabastan's blood ran cold.

All but Rabastan ran to Hermione's room, all, except the guard posted at Robert Granger's room. Rabastan needed to go to and warn Greg. He understood Greg shouldn't be there; he knew the naked man, it was Francois Goyle, damn.

At the room, Bill had come, and before he was able to draw, Dolohov had his wand pointed to Hermione's belly. He had yelled, "Draco, come danger," and now he regretted his impetus.

Dolohov had just found out that he could not Apparate from the room. Bill and Draco had warded the entire area earlier. Bill was a magical physical security expert, and Draco consulted with them. There were signs of tampering all the normal wards, everywhere you turned at St Mungo's.

"Come one more step, and the Malfoy-Potter precious cargo is gone." Dolohov sneered. He hadn't been at Azkaban. He had escaped at the end of the battle and had been lying low. He was rich enough to hide in one of his Unplotted properties at the Russian steppes.

Rabastan needed, to at least attempt, to send a Patronus. The last one he had successfully conjured was his last year at Hogwarts, around the time Rodolphus had married Bella. He concentrated in a happy image. The day he met Irina; better put, the day he had fallen in love.

Instead of being discouraged at Irina's marriage to the old wizard, he rejoiced that she was there, and didn't see Goyle as an obstacle, he was too old. The obstacle, however, was watching Irina and Francois dance. He remembered her perfume. A very complex mix of flowers and other scents, redolent of fragrant freesias, lavender, and a touch of wild blooms, it suited the tall beauty.

He still remembered the color of her dress, her hair half pinned, half falling in a cascade of shinny waves.. The mounds of her young breasts, the gentle curve of her waist, her smile; the way her soft body felt against his hand; he still could enumerate all her attributes without taking a breath. He loved the witch. He wasn't sorry to have asked for her as his consort, as his prize.

He had wished for her to be his wife, but she refused him. She had already given her heart to her stepson, Francois Goyle, Gregory's father. It didn't stop Rabastan, he made love to her, kissed her body with ardor; Rabastan was ready to be with her hours before their encounters. And would refuse to bathe for a couple days after being with her; he loved her scent on his body. "You smell like the Russian whore, " Bellatrix would never fail to inform him.

Irina, however, hated herself for enjoying his caresses, their hours together, and would bitterly cry after coming undone under his sensual ministrations. They shared a secret, a dark one according to her. She had given in to him before her husband died, and she had blamed him for being so_ 'seductive'_. They had several encounters when had escaped from Azkaban, several of them had unknown to the Ministry, and paid other inmates to resemble them, and the corrupted Ministry to look the other way. They had been preparing for the Dark Lord, stupid him.

He had lived in fear for years; he had kept an unforgivable secret from her and could never tell her. He had withheld information, and she had suffered greatly believing false realities. Bellatrix was the mastermind behind the nasty deceit, and once it was done, he was unable to disclose it while Bella was alive, or she would have killed Irina.

Then it was too late. The reason behind it, was her jealousy of Irina and Rabastan, because Rabastan had never wanted to bed the Dark witch. And Bellatrix had taken the secret with her to the grave, there were no trails when he tried to find what the nasty Dark Eater had hidden from them, he had tried without success.

Then he concentrated in a beautiful afternoon of love making, of her sensuous body under his, he could feel her velvet wall surrounding his hard arousal, oh Gods. Full of the memory of his sweet Irina, his amour, his life, he casted "**Expecto Patronus", **and the same large black cat of his youth, appeared in front of him.

He nearly cried with relief, "Go and find Greg and Rodolphus at Crabbe Manor, tell them it is a trap. They cannot go into the large room. Francois is dead, Greg should stay outside. Go."

He did not know more to tell them. He hoped nothing would happen to Greg. His guess was that Voldemort had made a Horcrux of the mad bitch, and his own could not be farther behind.

**Dolohov, a desperado**.

At Hermione's room, "Let me out the room, and nothing will happen to her. However, she goes with me, so it is either her, or, her life and her babies. You have my wizard's vow that I will bring her back alive." Dolohov murmured something; the tip of his wand now glowed.

"Don't worry, I am just making sure if you harm me, the wand will activate alone." His eyes were burning with a zealot's glow.

"Dolohov, don't be foolish, of course, you have lost. There is no way for you to leave Mungo's. You will be stopped along the way. If you let her go, we will give you time to escape." Bill knew he would demand a vow, but to save Hermione, he would do whatever it took.

"I don't make deals that involve my children, fuck you Dolohov. And how the fuck did you escape? She is my witch, and your filthy hands touched her, thereby, you signed your death warrant, let her go; and I promise, you will go straight to Azkaban, I don't dirty my hands with your blood." Draco wasn't thinking rationally, Bill wanted to wring his neck.

"Your children, I dare say not, you are but a fucking ponce. Your wife is the boy-who-wanted-to-be-a-Malfoy-bitch. Did daddy help you make a tiny Malfoy? Did he dip his wick inside muddy? If I were to guess, I'd say the Malfoy wizards like it 'dirty'," He smiled at Draco, knowing the effect of his words.

"Draco, shut up, he is trying to make you mad." Bill growled. _Tell the idiot to hush, or I will hush him me-self. He is a little you know what. _Lobo, his wolf, had decided to make his presence felt; the full moon was in two days.

Dolohov's eyes went from one wizard to the next one. His evil smirk showed how he rejoiced in the knowledge that he would win this one. Wait, something was different from a minute before, he felt as if he was under scrutiny, something was lurking, and he couldn't figure out what?

Bill noticed at once the change in Dolohov's stance. His demeanor had changed, and his eyes darted across the room. Bill sniffed the air discretely, and he smiled.

**\xxx/**

**At Crabbe Manor**

As the group approached a very low ceiling area, and the passage became narrower, they could see there were two corridors at either side. This particularly oppressive and dark area, smelled of moss, the faint odor of rat droppings, and something else, a strong chemical smell with a hint of incense.

The group stopped at once. Greg stretched out his hands, made hand signs to indicated that the corridors were very narrow, and he wanted to scout ahead. In truth, he was a little confused. Too many years had passed, and nothing seemed to be as he remembered. He did, however, recall one of the passages to be so narrow so you could not even turn, and it led to a dead end. You had to walk backwards to get out, and with eight in their group, it would be tight.

Aurors were posted at each exit, and ready to come in if an emergency flare would be sent. The problem was that the magical flares would not always work and were dependent on the wards around the area. Some wards had been built with blood magic, and those were hard to overcome.

Rodolphus saw Greg's intentions, and he moved his head from side to side. It wasn't a good idea. They all needed to stay together. Lucius and Harry were equally troubled.

Harry's forehead was itching. He had developed some skin allergies over the time, and dust mites would trigger them but not often. He was worried, what if this was not a skin allergy. What if Voldemort was around the corner, as he remembered the last time, he needed his blood.

He did not want to die; he wanted to live to see his baby. A terrible thought crossed his mind, they had wanted Hermione. What if this was not about money?

Lucius was thinking, what if this is about something else. There were those with a lot more access to money that Hermione. She was wealthy, but peanuts compared to others. It was evident the assailants knew she was pregnant, at least Crabbe did. Although, Mc Nair, and such, might have well thought this was about money, he wasn't convinced.

Something was telling him to get out there and go back to the hospital. His grandchildren were in danger, and a Malfoy was never wrong about feeling dangers prying upon their offspring.

The corridor was narrow enough to making pass one another rather difficult. Harry and Lucius were at the end. Rodolphus was two behind Greg. He was gesticulating to Greg not to go. He pushed the Auror in front of him, and he hoped he was right, otherwise it would look as if he was part of the trap, he was sure they were approaching.

Too bad Greg was not paying attention, and he went forward. His mind was made up, he would go close to the end, and if this was the through corridor he would approach and just listen. After, he would turn back for the others, and if he arrived at the blind corridor, he would just walk backwards. He shouldn't have come; he should have stayed by Hermione, he could sense she was in danger.

Gods, he was in love, if he were before, now he was up to his neck. He was a drowning wizard.

He proceeded with stealth, remembering all the dueling moves, ready to attack. He had trained with the best, and he was in optimal condition. His only shortcomings were his emotions, and his reactions to what he might be seeing in a couple of minutes, and someone was counting on that.

* * *

A/N Check for another chapter later today.

Reviews are appreciated. Note several events have ben changed from the original version.


	14. Self Sacrificing Love

**Best plans oft go astray**

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**Disclaimer**; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. **J.K.R**.Yup, JKR is the queen, I am not. Oh, well. I am happy nevertheless.

Thanks to my readers, to all those who give me advise and help me improve my writing. Blessing to everyone, and thanks, thanks Dear Savva, may you win your fight against your Death Eaters.

If you like this Greg let me know.

How about Rabastan, should he talk to Robert about Irina? That is assuming Rabastan makes it in one piece.

◄►o◄►o◄►

**Last time: T**he search team had gone into the crawl space/basement at the old Crabbe Manor. Rabastan is with Irina who knows what is waiting for Greg, i.e., her dead lover, Francois. Who has told her in a dream that Greg, his son, is about to die.

Rab was able to conjure his Patronus, and we can all hope. Dolohov is threatening to kill the babies in Hermione's belly. His wand is pointed at it. Bill and Draco are dealing with him, but Draco is loosing his cool.

++At Mungo's++

The Aurors from the next shift were arriving. Charlie and Ron were coming back from a job in Asia. They had been called to install their advanced security systems, with costume wards and protected against a specific curse. And while there, they had discovered a new magically altered electronic component for some of the physical security devices not functioning correctly.

It was one of their inventions. It had been built at Malfoy's technology, and apparently someone in the inside had changed the wiring, to render them useless after installation. It would work for two days, which was usually the testing phase, and after it had passed all the tests, it would fail and would not transmit the alarms to the automated central and the wards would all fail. However, the customers would think all was running since it would all check as if it was in order.

Both were quite worried, considering the same wards had been installed at Hermione's recently bought Manor. The Malfoy were her neighbors, but they were not that close; therefore a ward failure at Hermione's Manor could endanger her life. The war had brought a sense of peace, but danger still lurked, and the darkness was forever threatening to make a comeback.

To their surprise, they were unable to apparate inside Mungo's and ended up outside. They were not alone, the Aurors had the same problem, the building had been locked from the inside, and communications with the residents was impossible. Something was wrong and nobody seems to know what.

"And Hermione is inside, do you all know where?" Charlie asked one of the Aurors.

"Yey and nay, I know the area but not exactly, we might have a mole. There are Aurors posted at their doors, we are coming to replace them, but the all the access is non-existing."

Inside all the healers and workers, were under a _Confundus Charm_ cleverly issued through a private Sonorus channel, a mix of Muggle technology and Magic, which should only last a little longer, but for now they were all unaware of the outside word.

Bill knew a fresh batch of Aurors was coming, it was nearly midnight. He hoped for the surprise element.

Dolohov appeared apprehensive; his eyes were darting along the room.

"I am leaving and will be taking the Mudblood with me. Don't try to stop me, or she and her filthy spawn will perish, I don't make false promise. I promise to return her safe, and, I will I promise the Malfoy babies will be fine." He smiled a wicked and pleased smirk.

"The babies are all Malfoys," Draco argued.

"I don't share your opinion my boy; I assure you that there is one Potter babe at the very least. Let me pass. Don't try to stop me." The crazed Dark Wizard started an incantation holding on to Hermione. It all seemed rather hopeless.

Not so, out thin air a flying-furry-ball propelled into the room, catapulted right unto Dolohov's chest and knocked him to the floor. It managed to all together avoid the sleeping witch. Neither Bill nor Draco missed their chance. Hermione just fell back on the bed.

Camellia was intent in grabbing Dolohov's throat and repeating an earlier deed, she was enraged this time, and being directed by supernatural entities which wanted the Death Eater's life force. Meanwhile, the evil and fearless dark wizard screamed in terror, "Take that demon away from me, she is death's companion." When Camellia's two extra heads appeared, his screams were deafening. He was even more afraid than early.

He was talking in Russian; he signed himself as in the old Orthodox religion, and muttered what seemed a religious prayer, a mix of Latin and something else. He was superstitious; it was excellent that the Dark wizard fainted in fear and was easy to subdue.

He was desperate because his family would die if he failed to bring Hermione, there were all trapped in a subterranean cage at his home. He had made a pact with those helping him escape, and it was pay up time.

"Camellia will you marry me," Draco asked the fierce pooch as he picked her up and let her lick his face at leisure. The babies would always be safe with the smart little hellion; she was that, a hell dog. Hermione never woke up, she was still out; what a blessing.

So Draco danced around the room with the pooch in his arms towards Hermione' bed. He dropped the pooch in the bed, held on to Hermione's hand, and covered it with kisses, while Camellia tried to smooch the sleeping witch's face before Draco stopped her.

"Draco, cut it out, find an Auror, something is still wrong. Sorry to cut in, my apologies to your dance partner, and to your sleeping beauty, but I haven's seen any healers for a while now. Something is wrong around here. I think Dolohov might not have been alone. Later, we must buy a steak for this mini-hero, and I am sorry that she cannot be yours, she is spoken for, and she is going home with me. I promise to be faithful, feed her a steak daily."

Bill smiled, although his intent was to be funny, his tone was apprehensive; something was wrong, very wrong. Lobo agreed with him, they shouldn't let their guard down, not for a second. On another matter, Lobo also wanted the fierce little hellion around; she was his hero, and he would make sure there were lots of chasing games. Wolves ruled, and she was the living proof.

**xxAt Crabbe Manorxx**

Greg heard muffled voices, but where were they coming from? As he went deeper into the narrow corridor, a silvery shape, a very large wild cat, a Patronus, landed in front of Rodolphus, "It is a trap, stop Greg, he is danger, tell him Francois is dead. Tell him not to go inside the room, stop him, now!" It was Rabastan's voice, and the urgency of his request was unmistakable

Lucius had also heard the large cat, and he whispered the message along the way until it reached Greg, right about when had reached the door.

The hall was quiet, he recognized the voices inside. One belonged to the horrible Dolores Umbridge, Crabbe Sr.? He must have escaped, and the other was a female, Crabbe's wife? Had she not divorced him? What was going on? The shrilly, lusty laughter, had to belong to Lady Crabbe.

"Where are Dolohov and Greyback? They were going to bring the goods ages ago, we need the Mudblood. Dolohov knows his family will die, he won't disobey." Crabbe Sr. spoke.

"I cannot wait to see the face of Gregory, the aristocratic prick,, what a sweet revenge. Irina is going to get her just desserts." A woman spoke, Greg would never forget that voice, Lady Crabbe.

What nefarious plot had they concocted? It wasn't about money, it was about Hermione and about him. They just happened to be at the same place at the wrong time, they had saved them time. They were going to use his mother to get to him.

"It has to be completed today, before the clock strikes 01:00, otherwise, we have to wait three months, and the chance will be gone, they are all alert." Umbridge remarked, "And remember, that I have been promised the next ministry."

Greg raised his hand to the others and indicated for them to back up.

After negotiating a difficult noiseless retreat, they managed to get back far enough so they could talk.

**xxAt the Ministry - Desert a sinking ship xx**

The knocked-out Aurors, by the detention cells, were being awoken by Arthur Weasley. He had volunteered to go to the Ministry and inform them about the Mungo's crisis, and to help as best as he could.

He found out that Crabbe Sr. was gone; the injured Death Eaters had been taken to the surgery at Azkaban, except for Yaxley, who gesticulated, he tried to convey something to whoever paid attention.

He wanted credit for the knowledge he had, and to exchange it for what he yearned for, to have freedom, and the right to live out a normal life, not hiding like vermin. His parents had expected so much from him, born to generations of aristocracy and now in hiding for a bunch of maniacs.

After seeing Malfoy, Lestrange, and Goyle living normal lives, as members of the main stream; moreover, he had taken into consideration his close encounter with death and had made an irreversible decision, if he were just given a chance. He knew how to remove the Occlumens block so they could verify his information, but for that, he needed a wand.

Arthur understood the anguish on Yaxley's eyes, "Don't bother Mr. Weasley, he cannot speak a word or write, he is frozen. We have tried every curse breaking spell we known without success." Russell, a young Auror remarked, "even the expert we called was dumbfounded."

Arthur, the father of several rebellious and mouthy teenagers, let out a soft laughter. He then approached Yaxley; he pulled out his wand, pinched the dark wizard's right ear while murmuring some unintelligible words, meanwhile he moved his wand in a counter-clock direction once or twice.

"I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU, IDIOTS, DUMB FUCKS, JUST LISTEN!" Yaxley's voice thundered, it was way too loud. "How did you do it?" Yaxley looked at Arthur curiously, totally taken aback.

"It is a very old charm, to punish children who speak out term, however it is now forbidden to use because abuse implications." He smirked as if remembering, "I didn't let it stop me, I had too many teenagers all at once. Therefore, I used a modified version on the kids once or twice. So what is what you want to tell us?" Arthur directed his question to the Dark Wizard.

"Young Mrs. Malfoy is in grave danger, and if we don't hurry, we all are. But before I tell you what I know, I want a vow to allow me to walk free and for my vaults to be unfrozen; in exchange I vow to live under the law. I want a life, a family, children, you know. Make a decision now, and be aware that after 1:00 AM today, it will be too late."

"Call Kingsley, it is an emergency," Arthur bellowed. Within minutes Kingsley Apparated into the cell, the Mungos' situation was known, and a high state of emergency had been declared.

Arthur related Yaxley's proposal, Kingsley wasn't one to make concessions, but he had always loved Hermione as her mentor, her counselor, and friend; and his gut feelings never failed him. Yaxley had information they needed.

"Considered done. Come with Arthur and me, your wand will be reissued later, after all is done, if you tell us the truth, and it helps, we will comply."Kingsley stated. "Hell, I will personally officiate your wedding if you find a willing bride; no Imperium's okay?"

And he winked his eye to Yaxley who pursed his lips, and then it sunk on him, Yaxley couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had lived too many years being hunted as a rat, following demented leaders and believing their lies.

He was fifty-two years old and the last of his line. He really wanted a life, maybe an arranged marriage, a child or two, and a willing sex partner, not one he had to pay for. It was time to quit looking over his shoulder. Just look at Rodolphus, Rabastan; and talking about Rodolphus, poor unfortunate sod, he should start running, poor wizard.

"Yes, you see…" Yaxley started, it took him around fifteen minutes, he wrote a few things for them, addresses, names, times when events would happen. Within ten minutes of finishing his declaration, several squads of Aurors had been deployed, and messages had been sent to Azkaban to reinforce the wards everywhere, there was not a second to spare.

"Everyone if you see Greyback, make sure that person doesn't harm him, tell him Yaxley is out, and bring him to me. As for Dolohov, call our office in Moscow, and—" Kingsley ordered, "Ah, better-."

**~The best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray~**

Hermione dreamed. In her dream, she had been taken into a dank, dark room. Inside the room there was a man around, her age, no a few years older. She floated a little closer, he reminded her of someone. It was very creepy; the man was suspended in the air by wires that ended in cushioned bands around the legs, the ankles, the neck, waist, arms and wrists. He looked like a frozen marionette. He wasn't breathing, but the body was in perfect condition. She looked closer, he was breathing but barely."

In her dream she stepped backwards, several steps, her heart beeping wildly.

"Mrs. Malfoy, yes, you are right, you recognize me. Say my name, I am not allowed to say mine. I walk the land of shadows and have been granted two visits, and this is my second." The voice had a light French accent, and he was naked, it was the same man, tall, powerful, and handsome, he was now standing, err, floating next to her. And of all the most ridiculous things she recognized, it was an extremely large err male appendage, and in her dream she turned several shades of red.

The man's voice laughed delighted and teasingly said, "Ah, your eyes are stuck in one particular part of my anatomy, I must then assume, I share the attributes with my son?"

Blushed and embarrassed, Hermione asked," Francois Goyle?"

"But yes," being a gentleman, he did not pursue the embarrassing recognizable trait and continued, but continued smiling playfully, "look carefully around the room and tell me what you see, what do you recognize?"

Hermione let out an anguished sob, suspended from an umbilical cord was a baby, around the start of the second trimester, one of her babies it had to be.

She then saw, Crabbe Sr., a witch on her forties, dressed suggestively and totally inappropriate for her age, she was dressed with clothes for a fifteen year old witch, yet she was very beautiful. By the way she held on to Crabbe Sr, she must be his wife. So, she hadn't married and left, it was one more lie. They were talking to that toad, Umbridge, surely this was some kind of conspiracy.

In a chair, there was a young boy, slumped, and a gash in his forehead. He was restrained and he had a gag around his mouth.

She looked closer, my lord, he must be a Goyle, she made mental calculations around fourteen or fifteen, no real facial hair. "Cannot be," she murmured.

"Yes, it can. It is Ephraim." The man, or the specter, he was transparent, the voice was coming from a now standing ghostly figure, fully dressed, and she could seem some resemblance to Greg, but not on the child.

"Is he your son? Greg's brother? He was killed." Hermione said in her dream.

"No he wasn't. Some poor child was killed in his place. When he went to the loo, a Poly-juiced boy, probably a Muggle, he was Imperious and sent to Irina, you now the rest. It was all part of an elaborate ruse, mostly because Bellatrix hated Irina, just because Rabastan loved her. I knew Ephraim wasn't mine. It matter not, I loved her too much, and was blind to her weaknesses, and Rabastan will always be hers. They made a back-up plan; it needed to include people Bellatrix hated." He smiled sadly.

Hermione asked," Is this a dream?"

"No, it is not, I was given two chances to convince someone. The powers above us don't wish the scourge of Voldemort; who would again bring his reign of terror to a favorite realm. I first tried Irina, but she was unable to channel this well."

Hermione wanted this to be a dream, it was too horrific.

"Do listen carefully; I am not sure how it will be done. But they have been planning for years, waiting for Potter to have child, but mostly waiting for Greg to be out. Their plan failed because Ephraim wasn't my son. They would have figured out the Potter baby, they would have paid someone to be pregnant, you made it easier. Your baby is that child hanging there, but he is still inside of you; what you see is only a representation if you will." Hermione breathed easier.

"Now, with Greg out of prison, all is lined up. All I know is that Bellatrix and Voldemort made Horcruxes. To activate them, they will need innocent Potter blood, they think Harry's would no longer work, couldn't work twice." Hermione raised her hand, she need to assimilate all this information.

"They need a body for the Dark Lord to inhabit, one that pleased him. You must understand that they thought they could execute their plan very quickly. He chose me, I am nearly dead, my soul is trapped between realms, and I just want to rest. I cannot go back into the body, I would be a vegetable. The curse that Crabbe Sr. sent my way was to keep me just to keep my body warm, to keep it alive for him. That is the reason why my body couldn't be found."

Hermione could hear the sadness in his voice, and wished she could make him feel better.

He continued, "Believe me, I wish I could see my Irina again and hold her in my arms, but my time has passed. I have been offered a tempting option, one that appeals to me; it will insure her love, forever. They will allow me to tell you, so you can tell her one day, and it will wash the guilt away from her. I told her but she didn't get it.

They also need my son's blood to make it happen. A few years ago, Dolohov, who suppressed Ephraim's memories and raised him, ready to sacrifice him to give the Dark lord a perfect body, sorry for not being modest, as soon as Potter had a child. "

He chuckled, "Their carefully laid plans went haywire. One day, he noticed that Ephraim didn't resemble me. He checked old photos, it was the way his eyes changed colour when he was around eight or so. His eyes turned from blue to violet, his skin was not alabaster white, but with a kiss of olive, and the hair took a well known dark auburn and blue highlights, neither strawberry blond, neither blond; does it ring a bell?" He asked, a bit of playfulness tinged his voice." He was a dead ringer for his father, so they had to wait for Greg."

" Maybe Lestrange, they are the only ones I can think that meet that particular trait."

"And right you are. I was gone for long periods of time, to service the damn treacherous maniac. I wanted out, but it was nearly impossible. Rabastan fell in love with her, as I did, upon laying our eyes on her. It was not only her physical beauty; it is also her magnificent soul." Francois voice was nostalgic, but not despondent, just a hint of sorrow, of pain.

"I would guess you know the rest of that part of the story. The plan was to use his blood to revive my body if something would happen to the Lord; a Horcrux created around 1996 was hidden. And not, not inside of me, they wanted to make it confusing. It was hidden in this very room where they have kept me. A Horcrux was also made of his beloved Bellatrix, and if you look carefully on the corner to the left, you might see a face you recognize. They are perverted. It is someone who held an appeal to the Lord."

When Hermione approached and saw the person, tied and gagged on the floor, she screamed, "Why?"

"Just because, they are planning to use Ephraim to coerce Greg, poor boy, he hasn't been mistreated, but he has known little love. As for the witch, easy, they will use any of her brothers' blood." They have trapped one of them, the one who works at the Ministry; look farther back to the right.

Screaming, Hermione woke up. "Bill, Bill, Bill, Draco, come," the sobs would not stop. They were all doomed. Oh Greg, God, dear Lord, don't let anything happen to Greg, to any of them.

By the corner of her eye she thought she had seen a large dog, weaving in and the hallway in front of her room. Surely, she had imagined it.

* * *

Well I gave you two chapters not to leave you in a bad place. Sorry, I forgot this goes from bad to worse, my muse has read too many suspense thrillers.

So many yummy wizards, darn. I wonder where are they?


	15. Don't judge a wolf by its pelt

**Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing.**

**Reviews are appreciated. Thanks to those who review, and to everyone that reads. I send a virtual hug to everyone, and a big one to my dear Savva who is waging a war for her life.**

Last time.

"Just because, they are planning to use Ephraim to coerce Greg, poor boy, he hasn't been mistreated, but he has known little love. As for the witch, easy, they will use any of her brothers' blood." They have trapped one of them, the one who works at the Ministry; look farther back to the right.

Screaming, Hermione woke up. "Bill, Bill, Bill, Draco, come," the sobs would not stop. They were all doomed. Oh Greg, God, dear Lord, don't let anything happen to Greg, to any of them.

By the corner of her eye she thought she had seen a large dog, weaving in and the hallway in front of her room. Surely, she had imagined it.

* * *

_This chapter_

**_*``~~~``*Don't judge a wolf by his pelt*``~~~``*_**

**_*-The old potion's lab-*_**

Bellatrix's Horcrux was, indeed, in the room and hiding in plain sight. There was a bronze statue of an old Hindu Deity, and yes that object standing in one corner hid her Horcrux. And not too far away, the Dark Lord's dormant Horcrux caught as it left Nagini's body by one of his minions waited for its arrival back to this world.

The old potions lab was still occupied by the dusty appurtenances and equipment. There were several stoves with exhaust chimneys to the outside; surely, in a Manor of this size, the exhausts had been easily disguised.

Presently, there were two cauldrons boiling; Gunhilda Crabbe tended their contents. She was talented, and had excelled in Potions. She knew how to brew potions and had been an apprentice to a dark practitioner at Knockturn Alley. She was quite good, and could expertly prepare poisons, abortion brews, and a large assortment of dark potions, and with her beauty she earned a few extra galleons in one of the many businesses catering to prostitution at the Alley.

The plan had been concocted as a back up by a selected group which excluded the Malfoys and Lestrange Brothers amongst others who were deemed as possible traitors. The Lestrange had been excluded in part because of Bellatrix's wish of only her Horcrux be made.

They had decided to activate the two Horcruxes nearly at the same time. In the mean time, she started Bellatrix's preparations. She came over by the fallen wizard, the one kidnapped from the ministry, who was very much awake, but under a Petrificus Totalus Duo**. **With a sharp knife, she sliced a deep cut in one of his fingers and filled up a tube with the red fluid, his face was horrified.

"I will need much more than that, so enjoy your last minutes." She let out a wicked cackle that made Dolores more than a little afraid.

She added the blood to a ladle full of the brew, came over by the bronze statue, and dropped the hot liquid over a hole near the bronze head. The female figure, who lay on the ground, jerked as if coming to life, then, it went down again.

"It is working, we are ready." Gunhilda Crabbe's satisfied smile confirmed their readiness to proceed as soon as she had Greg's and the baby's bloods, she was nearly ready and set to go.

**==Outside of the lab room==**

Greg was telling them what he had heard, "We need to figure out how to go in. I believe whoever is in the room is planning to bring the Dark Lord and Bellatrix back."

They could see a figure coming towards them; it was hard to tell if it was friend or foe. When the figures got closer, they were able to identify, Yaxley and Arthur Weasley. It seemed you could actually Apparate in areas in the basement but not everywhere. Yaxley must have known the Apparation points.

They talked in hopes of reaching a consensus, and they decided to wait twenty more minutes. They had already figured out that there must be a traitor, either here or back at Mungo's.

Yaxley had hopes that someone would reach Greyback on time. However, they all were in agreement that Greg should be isolated and guarded; same should be done with Hermione. Greg refused to leave.

They were wrong, there might be a traitor but someone had miscalculated. Allegiances were often difficult to discern.

While they were conferring, Rodolphus heard a very clear voice inside his head. It was Bellatrix, "Darling, bring the little traitor in, Greg Goyle. We need him, get him here, I miss you my dear love, cannot wait to be with you once again." Rodolphus disagreed, he could wait a lifetime.

Rodolphus turned green; he ran to the side and threw up. Several of them noticed. Bella was coming back, no, he wanted a normal life, Eva had accepted a dinner invitation, to discuss possible courting, He did not know who to trust, and he decided. "Harry, may I have your attention?"

**_*=St Mungo's=* Don't judge the book by the cover._**

The doors had finally opened allowing the entry of several Aurors. Theo Nott was rushing in with a tall, younger wizard running by his side. The younger wizard around twenty two, was powerfully built. His hair was multicolor, a grey stripe right through the middle, silver blond, and blue black mixed clumps. His hair was messier than Harry Potter's, his eyes had the color of a blue sky with molten gold flecks, and there was a feral look about him, yet he inspired trust.

They went straight into Hermione's room. She was relaying her recollection to Kingsley, Bill and Draco. "Theo, Artix, hello, you know what is going on right?" Hermione's voice was still weak, yet improving. It was obvious she liked the young wizard.

"Ah, excuse me; you might not know Artix, a new solicitor, Artix Greyback." Both Kingsley and Bill turned around to face him. Artix came forward ready to shake hands. Bill held his back, but for a second, since Hermione's look made him stretch his hand without reservations.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I will never forget how you gave me an opportunity. I know my father came to ask you for a job for me. Nobody wanted to hire my father's son. Moreover, to have defended my father demonstrated your big heart and your courage. My mother and I will forever be grateful."

He came and sat by her side as she indicated. He continued.

"You listened to him, and believed his claims that the Dark Lord held my mother, my two sisters and, and my sisters just a couple months old when he took them. As you know, one of his strongest supporters kept several families of werewolves as prisoners for over twelve years. I was born in captivity and was lucky to get an education, and only because Mr. Malfoy found it and insisted upon that the children needed to have opportunities.

Bill asked, "Why did he keep biting people? And ruining so many lives?"

"My father doesn't consider being a werewolf a curse, if he let you live, he must have thought you were a powerful addition to his dwindling pack, I apologize for him. He has given you a longer life, and stronger health."

He presented it as an excuse, but to him it was also the truth. They could shift into wolves, a gift given only to the few. He wasn't bitten, neither was his mother, nor for that matter his father. They came from the old ones, the ones who came though and they were shifters.

"It is also true, he was losing his mind towards the end. The Dark Lord was using him as his henchman. Making him tear Muggles, he went into blood lust and turned into an animal. It happened after he sent Nagini after my younger brother, Caspian, also born in captivity. I saved him, but my father lost if after my brother would do nothing and just lie on his bed crying. He wasn't three when it happened"

He appeared upset, Hermione held his hand reassuring since she knew the story, it was near during the time he bit Bill.

"I am coming to tell him that Yaxley has gone to your side, and my mother has been freed. We finally found her, at a farm in Ireland with my brother, poor Caspian he is a scared little wolf, this second time has been too much on him. Has anyone seen my father? You are in grave danger Mrs. Malfoy; he has the order to bring you and Lady Goyle."

Camellia was jumping up and down, sniffing the young wizard. What a handsome large dog. Greyback Jr. patted the fuzzy dog, and scratched it behind the ears. In a few seconds, she had climbed up his shoulder. "You are going home with me, right girl?" She woofed back, Bill and Hermione glared at her.

"Flirt," Bill told her, and they all laughed.

Behind them, first a low growl followed by a deep laughter which resounded throughout the room, and there stood Fenrir, the dog Hermione had seen earlier. He transformed right in front of them. Camellia snarled, what was that? Another dog, a dog from the underworld, it was unnatural.

"Father, everyone is ok." And for the first time ever, outsiders witnessed the feared, alpha-werewolf, as he hugged someone with love; a softer face emerged, a real person showing relief and pride. His eyes were moist, and he kissed his son's cheeks several times. Hermione's hormones activated, and she let the tears flow freely. She guessed it was a wolf ritual, like licking each other.

Camellia growled nastily, the older dog appeared quite mean, and she didn't trust anyone who changed into a mean dog. She ran and sat under Hermione's arm. She snarled with her hair all fluffed, which made Bill happier.

"Ms. Granger, excuse me, Mrs. Malfoy, I have been trying to slow down Dolohov, hoping my son could find Amelia, my wife." Greyback explained when he approached her bed, Camellia stood defiant showing her double row of sharp teeth, her eyes glowing; defiantly, she barked and growled.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I would be honored if you would consider me a buyer of one of her pups when she is bred." He was laughing, "Caspian would come out his shell with her."

That broke the ice, "You and who knows how many hundreds, I cannot breed her, it was agreed no to do so. But I will add you to the ever growing list. And as for Caspian, bring him over to play with her." Hermione answered, Camellia supposed to be a secret, not after today."You were saying?" She addressed Fenrir.

"The Dark Lord deluded himself that I had accepted to be his servant. After, he kept my family hostage for years, try to feed my baby son to Nagini, decimated my pack, killed my parents, and made it look as if it had been Grindenwald's followers; it still behooves me to ask him, how he could think I was that much of an imbecile? I was educated in Oxford, and he treated me as if I was a dirty animal." He looked at his son seeking his approval.

"My hands were tied, I often felt like killing him. A few years ago, you accepted to defend me, after I caused damage to so many; that same day, I decided that no matter what, or at what cost, I would do whatever I could for you. I am ready to help."

"Fenrir, is there something you can help us with, we? We have a crisis." Kingsley asked.

"Ah, Mrs. Malfoy, I know. I would not harm you or your babies. I was holding off, Keith was checking if our family was safe. Someone broke into our compound four months ago. After that I was contacted. We have been searching none stop. We are all in great danger. We need to break into the room at your home; you will need to trust me. Mr. Weasley, your sister, and your brother, are also in danger. Mrs. Malfoy will need to follow my lead." Bill paled, what now?

Draco spoke for the first time, "No, she is not going anywhere, and you are not laying a dirty paw on her." He stood by her firmly.

Bill anxiously asked, "My sister, are you referring to Mrs. Ginny Longbottom? Which brother and why, tell us fast." He sounded quite angry.

Fenrir explained, "It is about the second coming of the Dark Lord; who fancied your sister since she was a young lass. She was kidnapped yesterday from her home; her husband, children, and house elves are all tied in the old dungeons of Hogwarts, someone needs to get them and send a healer because her husband was injured." He looked around, they all appeared very upset.

Your brother at the Ministry, need his life's blood to make the transfer, Bellatrix that is, most of his blood, he will die. In minutes they are going to lure Greg Goyle, and the transfer can start, Greg will also die. However, Voldemort's case is more complex, he also needs Potter blood, innocent blood. Mrs. Malfoy has come up with the solution. Although, they could have done it another way, the appeal of such powerful blood pleases his followers."

"No, they won't do that," Draco once again was acting hot headed and irrational. "She is nearly my wife, you cannot touch her."

"Draco, if you don't settle down this will all be for naught. We all need to keep our heads." Bill grabbed him by the arm.

"Kingsley, were you with Yaxley? A large escape at Azkaban has been planned for later today." Greyback directed his question to Shacklebolt.

"It is all taken care; we are looking for the traitor." Kingsley said.

"If we don't hurry, Greg will be dead, they wanted Irina, but they have a surprise and might not need her after all, we need to go. I don't think there is a traitor. You are looking for that horrible witch, Dolores, I think is her name." Greyback sounded rushed; he wanted to be there, now. Kingsley and everyone else harrumphed, it figured. "She wants your job." He smirked.

"No, she isn't going; she is pregnant; she has been injured; and she is not going to be hurt again." Draco insisted. He had his wand out, and Camellia was of the same mind.

She didn't like Greyback, he was a dangerous creature. She stood right beside her mum, pop, pop, three heads, fierce teeth, and sorry to say, the Greyback threw Camellia a kiss, much to her chagrin. "What a beauty," was Fenrir's admiring comment.

"I am not yours Draco, and I am my own woman. Let's go. Camellia, one head, one head, do it now." She gave Camellia a gentle smack on the rump

"Where is Rodolphus Lestrange?" Fenrir asked.

"He is at Crabbe's, helping." Bill answered.

"No, we need to get there now, bring Rabastan. Rodolphus is the-to-be traitor." Greyback stated.

"Draco, go and stay with Lady Goyle. I don't want to take you out by force, but I will do it if you insist." Kingsley ordered.

"I am going with my witch." Draco was assertively staking his claim.

"Draco, if you love me please stay with Irina, will you do that for me?" Hermione asked, called him to her side and gave him a chaste kiss.

"I want to help, Draco, too many lives depend upon." She patted his check with tenderness.

Some minutes later Charlie and Ron approached Hermione's room, nobody was in. It was all quiet. Next, they went into Irina's room and found Draco tied to a chair, with a rag around his mouth. Irina Goyle was gone.

They both ran in, first took the rag off Draco's mouth. "Idiots, they are going to get Hermione killed, trusting a werewolf. Surely, he had it all planned, are they blind?"

"Who tied you up?" Charlie inquired.

"I don't know, I must have been stunned, where is Lady Goyle, oh, no. Ron, please go two rooms down, the room of Hermione's father, shite."

In less than a minute Ron was back, Draco was untied, and ready to go, his wand was under the bed. "He is in the room; the Auror was tied like you."

"We need to go. Let's talk to the Auror." They all left to Robert's room. The Auror was a twenty something blond. He related the incident.

"I was posted outside; when the medi-witch asked me for my assistance with the patient. I was confused when I saw two of them, one behind me and one in front, twins, that was the last I remembered." He drank water.

"I have been thinking who were they? I was in my second year during your last year Mr. Malfoy, I was in Ravenclaw. They still look pretty much the same, Flora and Hestia Carrow. And I recognized someone else from the past Amycus Carrow, as I was going down. He picked up Lady Goyle, I am so sorry; I wasn't able to move."

"We need to leave, guard Mr. Granger with your life. Don't open the door, " Charlie said.

* * *

A/N. I am happy to say the story is coming close to the end. A couple of chapters and it is goodbye to this ship.


	16. Erasing Evil Traces

Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing. This story will contain adult situations later.

This is the next to the last chapter. Thanks to all the readers, and particullary to the generous readers who had taken the time to let me know what they think. I have changed parts when possible to implement changes some of you wanted. This story was dedicated to Savva, and Irmorena who loved Greg since day one.

‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡◊•◊‡

**-Crabbe Manor-**

**The capture.**

"Mr. Goyle, I think you need to see who is waiting for you." Dolores Umbridge had Apparated out the room, eve, "If anyone touches one of my hairs, little Ephraim dies."

"You are a liar, my brother is dead, don't lie if you value your life." Greg had the appearance of one of his ancestors, feral and wild. Harry had never seen this Greg, he was rather scary. Before he was built as a wall, now he was muscle and broad, he could have kill the witch with one hand.

Umbridge, put her hand inside her robe, and pulled out a recent picture to show him. It was a recent picture, of Ephraim before he was injured, a tall and sad looking teenager, and one of him now slumped inside, there was no denying, he was Greg and Rabastan at once.

Rodolphus had turned around, carefully observed the picture and roared in anger. "Bring the boy out here if you value your life, you miserable toad." Now Harry backed up, he had heard how scary the Lestrange brothers could be, handsome or not, he could see it now.

Leastrange heard inside his head, _'Temper, temper, I am going to be young enough to give you an heir, Rabastan is a loser, bring Greg, now_.' She was lying, and he knew that she only loved two beings, Voldemort and herself.

"Someone must go to Mungo's, Rabastan must come." Rodolphus felt sick. This time he would protect his brother, and the newly found Lestrange heir, with his own life. His parents would never forgive him, they were afraid they were the end of the line.

"Everyone calm, we need to get in the room, now, Dolores, your life is on great danger, "Harry was behind Dolores pointing his wand at her temple.

She smirked, "Threats, soon all that will change; you will be begging for my favor, you can count on my words."

Pops were heard from one of the narrow hallways, closely followed by a second set from another direction.

Everyone froze, Fenrir Greyback, had Hermione in his arms. He had his wand pointed at her belly.

"Everyone let me pass, or the Mudblood and her cargo die."

Dolores laughter angered all of them. Lucius wanted to throw up. Her eyes were glowing with satisfaction. Harry noticed that Greyback was trying to communicate something with his eyes. Harry followed Fenrir's brief clue, one of Hermione's arms was not hanging limp. It was stuck under his cloak. He also heard a soft growl far behind. He tried not to smile.

"Good job, the Master will reward you," Dolores said, "We still have need of Greg; Crabbe, you must come out. And, Potter, let me go if you don't want your precious mudblood to be injured, Fenrir will show no mercy. He has a lot to lose if he does. "She winked her eye to Fenrir, who growled deep inside.

They were all confused, even Yaxley, he couldn't understand.

"No need to worry," a man's voice spoke from the other hallway."Greg you want to save you mother, don't you, Lumox."

Coming through one of the narrow hallways was a wizard in Death Eater Regalia, accompanied by a set of twin medi-healers. They were levitating Irina Goyle.

At the sight, Greg yelled with despair, "Not my mother, no, and you won't hurt Hermione."

The door to the room was opening and Crabbe Sr. came out. He was armed, and in front of him he had Ginny Longbottom. She was in bad shape, unconscious and battered.

"Fenrir, my man, come in. Potter, you better let Dolores go."

"Why should I? I don't want to loose my child, and if I let her go, I lose Hermione and my child. What do I gain out of it?"

"Because this way, she will live, and you will have another chance. And you will avoid unnecessary deaths. Some must die to let the great one live again." Crabbe Sr. answered, his voice laden with sarcasm.

Amycus was at the entrance of the room, all the eyes fixed on the developing scene.

Temporary concealment charms developed by Bill and Co. were being used by two sets of wizards. Rabastan had heard about Ephraim, and seeing Irina being carried made him want to kill everyone.

Greg heard a whisper, "Don't move all is well."

Rodolphus heard, "Stay put, we are here be ready to act. Dolphus, they will pay."

"Harry, Fenrir is with us, play the game." Bill whispered.

It happened all at once. Amycus was stunted by Ron, and the twins were subdued by Draco. Charlie picked up Irina in his arms and walked to an area, which was enabled for Apparation back to Mungo's. Rabastan ran inside with Greg. There were no other Death Eaters around here that much was clear. Arthur picked up his daughter as if she was a baby. He was crying to see his daughter in this shape. He took her away.

Two '_Petrificus Totalus Duo'_ had been issued, and Crabbe Sr. and Umbridge were out. Fenrir helped the Aurors to take them away.

Gunhilda Crabbe wasted no time, she gathered Ephraim, a small box by the cauldron, and before she could do anything else, a strong right arm punched her lights out, besides breaking her nose, and loosening a couple of teeth.. Greg and Rabastan both smiled. Who did it? Whoever did it, never told anyone.

Bill attended Percy, who wanted to kill Dolores himself.

"I was coming out the Ministry to eat lunch. Dolores stopped me outside. She told me that was looking for a job, now that she was rehabilitated. She told me she was so ashamed to have behaved so poorly, but he understood what was to have to obey their superiors. Stupid me, I turned around to take her in, and Gunhilda, and Dolohov subdued me."

He had been held for over a day. They had sent an owl on his name that he had become ill, and could go to work. He told them how they had been touching Ginny, and there wasn't anything he could do.

Greg was crying at the view of his brother Francois. His legs had given up, and he was now on his knees. This was too horrible, who would do this? The view was grotesque and evil. He knew him to be his father, but it was difficult to officially acknowledge him as so. He would make his mother look bad. Poor Francis, so young, he had been what thirty four or thirty five when he died?

Rabastan had his son in his arms. He had lost a lot of blood and needed medical attention. He wasn't sure if he should Floo. Side-along was an alternative, and he just needed to carry his son out to one of the areas where it was possible. Rabastan was also crying, and so was Roldophus. Lucius, Bill all the others were heartbroken for Greg and the Lestrange. This was a day of horror. Hermione wanted to hug each one of them.

"Rabastan, go, take care of him, and make sure he is alright." Artix went with him. Lucius, Kingsley and Yaxley stood watching the scene, horrified, it made Lucius ashamed, and Yaxley was repentant to see the pain this was causing all around.

Greg finally turned around to see his brother, not so little any longer, a teenager. He should be grateful, his mother would be happy to see Ephraim. He would have plenty of time with him, let Daddy enjoy his son.

"So where are the Horcruxes? We will need to interrogate them." Harry pointed at the conspirators. Yaxley had no idea.

Lucius was a strong Legilimance, and put his hand on Umbridge's head.

The statue was obvious, but an old fashioned snuff box, they looked everywhere. The first idea was the box that Crabbe's wife had collected, but that was wrong, it had a key inside.

The Horcrux had to be here in the room, but where?

"Accio snuff box," was one of the first things tried with zero results. There were some many objects in the room it would be impossible to find a single item, and they were running out of time.

"No, it has to be around here," Lucius insisted.

Two Aurors were taking Lady Gunilda Crabbe away, when Greg screamed. "Stop, right there," and he ran towards them.

"You are a handsome young wizard, still pining for a knowledgeable partner," she smirked, taunting him, and stretched her hand to touch him, he slapped her hand.

"Aha," he pulled the brooch holding her cloak. Snuff boxes came in all sizes, his father had a collection, and he recognized it as a snuff box. It was a small silver and gold box; it had a sticking charm to make it look like a brooch.

"You are a disgusting hag, and you make me ill. It is your fault Vince burned alive, you and your sick husband."

Hermione was sitting on Draco's lap. He was grateful to have her back in one piece. He wondered if he had been crazy to choose Harry over her, but it wasn't really true. They thought they could convince her, given it time. Then, she met Henri at their wedding, a fact which made them fight for weeks, a fact unknown to all.

Henri had always been his rival; taller, more handsome, accomplished, more powerful, looked more like his father than he did. Harry blamed him for inviting Henri. With time they accepted her decision. And now, he wanted her back, preferably with Harry, or if not, just her. He was a little ashamed of the feelings she was waking up on him.

"Princess, I now you are injured, but I want to remind you of how much I love you. Let me care for you, I miss you much. What is with you and Greg? He is just a gorilla. Well, a handsome one, this new version, but he isn't a Malfoy." He caressed her face softly, she sighed.

She smiled and whispered, "No, he is not, and wow, you can tell he isn't one beautiful wizard, don't lie."

Draco knew exactly what she was saying, and it made him mad. He needed to think of an answer. Draco couldn't believe that behind all those layers, the real Greg hid. He had seen the transformation starting during his short stint in Azkaban. His father had told him to be careful that Greg would have access to Hermione once he was out.

They could hear the deliberations of the others. Was Francois, dead or alive? How to destroy the Horcruxes? They wanted to bring a healer to bring Francois back. Hermione heard them.

"Francois soul is trapped, he is already gone; we need to help him cross over." Nobody questioned her, but Greg was dubious. She wanted to run to Greg, but Draco was holding her close to him. She squirmed and struggle to no avail.

"Princess, can you try what you did with your father, I know you are weak, if you cannot I will understand." His eyes were still tearing, and Hermione's heart clenched with sadness.

"Love, you cannot bring someone who is dead, at least not like this. He wouldn't be the same; however, I am sure I couldn't do it." Her voice was full of compassion. She struggled to get free, and Draco's arms held her in place. Fight those battles you can, she decided and spoke to everyone.

**Erasing traces of Evil**

"We need the Basilik's poison. I have a fang up in my potions lab, and in the safe there are two vials full of the poison. Francois is dead, just bring him down, he must have something attached to him, probably a charm to keep his body alive, find it and rip it. It might be blue or purple; that is what he thought." Hermione let everyone know.

Greg lowered the body down; his eyes were full of tears. Hermione freed herself and ran to him, and just stood by his side. Her hand behind Greg, giving him courage, she also cried for him.

He kissed his Francois' brow and listened for breathing. He was breathing but barely. "He is breathing, let him be alive, let him be alive." He implored and looked at Hermione, who shook her head in negation.

The med-healer called to the site scanned him. "His soul is gone; his body has been kept alive by illegal spell and would need to be resurrected by Dark magic, dangerous at this stage."

Francois had no jewelry of any sort, he was naked, and Greg opened his mouth and looked under the tongue. He remembered tales of bringing things into prison.

"Greg, maybe you cannot see the charm, maybe it is invisible. It has to be easily reachable, feel around the neck."

He did and found nothing. He looked up and down, and he smiled, Francois had long hair and only tied it for formal occasions. His hair was braided, he reached and the braid was being held by a small clip, a purple clip, and when he pulled the braid, it was stuck to his back. The clip had a point embedded to his back, and it had a small hole in it.

He pulled it out, and the body quit breathing. He knew Francois was gone, so he kissed his brow, "Rest, go and rest, one day we will meet again." Yes, he would, Hermione would tell him, and Irina would as well

Greg was smiling, he had hear Francois voice, "Oh yes, we will be real brothers again. My beloved son, I have a message for you, Vince is standing here with me, he came to greet me and bid me goodbye, and he wants to tell you he is happy here."

They would meet sooner than later. In seconds, Francois soul arrived to his new growing body, and was suffused in his mother's love. He had arrived at Irina's womb as he had been told, and lay in content. He would grow to be a very happy baby loved by everyone.

Hermione was thinking, and something had just occurred to her, "No, no, we need poison, but it is much easier that I first thought. Each cauldron has what is needed to bring Bellatrix and Voldemort back. What if we throw the Horcruxes inside the cauldrons, and instead of the blood we just put poison? "

"It is a risk," Lucius said, but he thought it could work. He didn't want his demented sister in law, or the snake that nearly destroyed his life, back into their lives.

"It is a risk, we should take," Kingsley sounded doubtful, but did not want to wait and risk fanatics taking over again.

"I don't think it is a risk," Hermione said. Greg was sitting by Draco and her. Draco didn't look happy. Harry came and sat by them. Rodolphus rolled his eyes. Young idiots, they were going to kill the young witch.

"Greg and Harry, please help me stand up." Hermione walked to the cauldrons with their help. She read the components to the two potions, they were almost the same. The difference was that one had the blood of a male infant, and the other one of a female. Hermione's hands were trembling reading that text. The text called the babies' blood 'seasoning,' and thinking about her little chicks, it made her cry again.

"Harry can you go to my potions room…"

They waited and Harry came with the two sealed vials. She steadily prepared two droppers with the right number of compound

"Look inside of the statue, there should be a small pendant. That is where the Horcrux was hidden," nobody questioned Hermione's statement.

Kingsley looked inside and sure enough there was a pendant. It had a stone that was pulsating with life. Rodolphus could hear her, "_My love, don't let them destroy me. I want to be with you._" He looked at Harry with anguish.

The pendant was burning on Kingsley hand, he yelled in pain, "Quickly drop it here." Hermione indicated the cauldron.

When the pendant hit the cauldron, they all heard, "Rodolphus, my love, don't let them kill me, save me." It was Bellatrix and sounded in great pain.

Harry told him, "Ignore it, she is dead and cannot hurt you unless you let her."

"Draco, come here, I need you, you have a steady hand, and you were strong in potions, and we care for each other that will also help. Everyone be ready to kill whatever comes out of here. Something could go wrong. It is nearly 1:00 A.M. If we don't destroy them now, there will be chances a fanatic might get a hold of the Horcruxes."

Yaxley offered," I was second to Severus on Potions, let me help," he wanted to redeem himself.

"No offense meant, but let Draco or maybe Lucius help. You were with them just hours ago." Kingsley observed.

Yaxley understood and just nodded his head and was escorted out the room.

Hermione grabbed the snuff box with a special holder, and her arm hurt. The pain went through her womb, and she was afraid. A burning pain hit her womb, and the box flew on the air, as if it had wings, Camellia who had been quietly observing them, not wanting to be sent away, with the grace of a seeker, jumped up over two meters, and caught the escaping snitch in one try. She leaped again unto the table where the cauldrons were brewing; and everyone sighed.

Camellia gave box to Hermione. The burn ran through her arm, worse than before, she ignored it, and with all she had, she dropped the box in the cauldron. An angry shriek escaped the cauldron. Camellia jumped and sat in Bill's lap when he called her, her mouth was burnt, and she whined very soft and then was quiet.

In the back stood Lucius, Rodolphus, Kingsley, two of Aurors, Greyback and his son who had just returned. Yaxley was sent away, his allegiance not yet cemented, Ron had left with his father and brother and sister. Bill sat on the ground with Percy who wanted to stay. Everyone was hoping this was successful, and the distrust amongst the former Death Eaters was palpable.

"Draco, I don't know why, but this ritual was setup to run at the same time, we are going to count to 25 drops. The dose is lethal enough to kill everyone in this room and then some. I choose 25 because all the components were in multiples of five. I don't have more poison, so let's hope this works, and it is enough, whatever you hear, or see don't stop. Don't worry about me."

Greg held her by the waist, and Harry put his hand over her shoulder, and pointed the wand towards the cauldron, Artix came through with Lucius and they put their hands on Draco's shoulders, their wands pointed to the cauldron. Kingsley moved forward, and pointed his wand towards the cauldron with Bella's Horcrux. Greyback stood by Rodolphus, ready to stop him should he try to do something foolish.

The backwards countdown began, drop by drop. "25, 24…" The cauldrons were shrieking, screaming, and everyone felt fear, anxiety, and the desire to run. Over the cauldrons, there were images of a younger Dark Lord, and Bellatrix screaming in pain; also of the children that had been murdered to feed the Dark Magic; grim scenes showing their deaths; they all avoided looking at them.

Draco wanted to stop, something kept telling him the babies were being killed, and Hermione was afraid for her babies. There were only a few minutes left. Fenrir had to subdue Rodolphus who couldn't stand Bella's cries and had pulled his wand to stop Draco.

Before they realized, it was over. At the last drop, the cauldrons stopped boiling after a final horrible scream, and just like that, silence, and all the images disappeared. The contents turned into a fine dust, everyone had gathered around them.

Before anyone could speculate as to how to get rid of the dust, invisible hand lit it with a blue. The cold fire consumed it all, even the cauldrons. It all vanished as if had never been there. A smell of fresh flowers and fresh rain filled up the room and that was it. The pains from the burns all experienced were gone.

They all had the same thought, '_I hope this is the end of this scourge._'

As for Harry, he was sure; his scar had burnt for a minute before, but couldn't feel it anymore, Hermione looked at him, "Harry your scar is gone, it is no longer there."

Hermione sat surrounded by the three handsome wizards, and everyone else sat down wherever they could, the silence was perfect, and nobody moved for a while. They all listened and waited.

* * *

Xox

A/N One or two more chapters, probably just one long one.


	17. The end

**Disclaimer; All Harry Potter characters, locations, and other recognizable places and people, are the wonderful creations and brain children of a master quill: Ms. J.K.R. I do not get paid for this writing.**

One of my good readers made a comment meriting public review. I recognize that I am not always right. Her review remarked that Hermione might have moved too fast with Greg. I have considered, and perhaps she did. I did offer an explanation, Henri was dead, and had been over a year. He didn't want to leave her alone.

She might have acted rushed, maybe part of the mourning, getting pregnant, via in-vitro. In her defense, with this type of fertilization, females get implanted several embryos, and only a few take. The gene manipulation came after the implant. She was alone in this pregnancy, and hadn't had been with Harry for a few years, and with Draco over two and one half. I will take that into account next times. Being pregnant and alone can be quite lonely, I can assure you of that.

Nevertheless, point well taken. Sometimes my muse gets carried away, I am learning what is liked. Thanks you all for constructive critics.

This is the conclusion, it is nearly 9,000 words. My way to say thank you for reading my work, I am back. Savva is having therapy, and we all hope for the best.

Now, as they say _the feature presentation_.

Warning: This chapter contains scenes better suited for adult readers. They are explicit both in language and actual events.

* * *

xx

**Last time.**

They all had the same thought, '_I hope this is the end of this scourge._'

**And end and new beginnings**

As for Harry, he was sure; his scar had burnt for a minute before, but couldn't feel it anymore, Hermione looked at him, "Harry your scar is almost gone." Harry smiled with relief to the end of a nagging worry.

Hermione sat surrounded by the three handsome wizards, and everyone else sat down wherever they could, the silence was perfect, and nobody moved for a while. They all listened and waited.

After a few minutes, it was Lucius, who spoke, "I think this is the end of this unfortunate chapter. We should leave this place now."

His statement was followed by a sight of relief, and a small celebration ensued. The mood was high; there were hugs and kisses all around. Camellia was going from wizard to wizard, until it came to Fenrir, who just laughed and scratched her behind the ears.

Harry was hugging Hermione when she crumbled in his arms. "You are all irresponsible imbeciles, "Lucius again took the chance to speak his mind.

Before anyone could do anything, he picked her up in his arms and walked to the Apparition point with everyone else on toe. Greg saw Lucius' angry face, and decided this wasn't a time to fight the Dark Wizard. He was brave, but not that much.

**Happily ever after**

**Goyle Manor – What a difference two weeks can make**

Hermione had been home one evening; home these days was Goyle Manor; where her father, Robert stayed as well. Irina was out in two days, but Robert and Hermione had just returned.

Hermione had been unconscious for several days. Blaise advised it was perfectly ok; it saved him from putting her in a forced state of sleep. Her natural healing magic must have protected her and the babies. The ones, who had been around, remembered when Henri had died, she had tried healing him on her own, and the darkness of the curse would render her out to the world for days. First the healing and then the energy to destroy the Horcruxes had been too much.

After extensive testing, it was found the babies were all ok. The three wizards and her friends took turns watching over her and the other patients. The area of St Mungo's was heavily guarded and restricted to the public.

All the injured wizards made it, and Rowle was convinced that Hermione was breeding Hades' babies; and later suggested they should be following her instead of the Dark Lord. Dolohov kept repeating there was a demon being kept by the Weasley, and recommended, to anyone who would listen, they were investigated. He was talking about Camellia, of course.

Robert was released two days before Hermione, and Hermione had arrived the evening before. She was happy to be out of Mungo's. Camellia was kicked out the same day upon returning to the Hospital. A fact well liked by Ephraim, who had pretty much fallen in love with the pooch, Camellia had settled with her boy in his room, much to Ephraim's disappointment, she left his room to stay with her mummy upon Hermione's return.

Rabastan had temporarily accepted an invitation to stay at their home. He was helping to keep Ephraim's company after his release with Irina and taking the opportunity to be around Irina.

Everyone was adjusting, Eve Malfoy, had stayed with the Malfoy, but now Hermione was out, she had moved in Goyle Manor. The house had never seen such big crowds in a long while. Greg was again feeling lucky and quite happy.

They sat on the room's balcony overseeing the garden where a large group sat visited.

Greg covered her legs with a light throw, she let out a joyous laugh, "I'm not an invalid, it is a lovely thought but I am getting better."

"I know you are getting better my koshechka*, do you see everyone out there," he waved his hand to the group sitting outside with the convalescent Robert. "If I don't cover your legs, how can I play with you?" He smiled and winked. The truth was that he could not wait to put his hands and lips all over her. During the two weeks, her stomach had rounded considerable, and to Greg's surprise, it made her extremely sexy. In his mind, Henri's son was his own. He would raise the idea with her if she would become his wife.

"I say, Gregory Goyle, you are quite naughty, and I like it very much," Hermione kissed his hand.

They both watched the scene below them. The day was sunny, and the atmosphere was festive.

Down, at the gardens, Robert and Irina sat together in lounging chairs, talking and watching the game. The Malfoys, Rodolphus and Eva sat nearby. Rabastan and Rodolphus were staying as guests. In reality, they wanted to watch over the injured; Rabastan wished to be closer to his son; and Rodolphus wanted to court Eve whose current interest was her grandchild.

She had gone everyday to the hospital, along with Narcissa and Lucius, they were all anxious for her health. Lucius still wouldn't speak to Draco, Greg, or Harry; he was disgusted with all of them. And he had been the one to arrange the extra security donating money to the ministry. He had been so demanding and such a pain, that the St Mungo's personnel were happy to see Hermione go.

Ephraim, Bill, Rabastan, Adrian, Theo and Charlie were playing a Muggle game that Camellia loved. They were throwing a soft round disc that flew fast and high, she loved leaping up in the air and cheating by popping different heads.

And of course, Camellia was in love, once again, for the100th time. With Snape-and-Henri's portraits mysteriously empty, she had to look elsewhere for love and pets; of course, she knew the missing wizards would be coming back soon, she had seen the light going into her Mistress's. womb, but she would have to wait for a while. Meanwhile, they had found out the portrait at Hogwarts was also empty, Bill had been over with his team, and nothing was found out.

**Ephraim Goyle Lestrange**

"Girl, come here girl, "Ephraim was calling his beloved, and she wasn't listening. Camellia didn't believe in love during sports. She wanted to be the top dog, right now she wanted to win, and there wasn't any time for loving, so she politely ignored him. Hermione was laughing looking at her antics.

Ephraim was a hothouse flower; he was blooming with all the warm love around him. His mother, father, uncle and brother opened their hearts on sight and welcomed him unto the fold.

He couldn't remember feeling so accepted in his short life. At the Dolohov estates, he had private tutors and was given a comfortable life, but the only affection had come from an old house elf, which had passed away one year before.

He couldn't get enough love, even as a teenager when many want independence, he wanted to be close to his mother and also to Rabastan, in that he was a lot like Greg. He remembered his mother, Greg, the elves, everyone. Dolohov had told him that his entire family had died and to find them alive was indescribable.

The elves had cried. Something nobody remembered ever seeing. Their tears were green, and not very many, it was something to be seen. Ephraim ran to his room, to find out his mother had never changed it, not even a little bit. Irina had wanted to call Artemisia Parkison to decorate the room for him, but so far he had liked it just as it was, with magic trains, swords, and children toys.

Rabastan and Rodolphus had taken him for ice cream every day for nearly a week, when Irina tried to put a stop to it. Fat chance she would be obeyed, the Dark Wizards were in love with the young Lestrange. Their parents would be arriving the next day, and Irina was dreading it. Ephraim was thrilled to know he had actual grandparents and was excited to see them, but maybe not as much as they were.

He was confused about Rabastan, but everything was falling in place. If Rabastan was his father, it was well with him. He was very nice, and he was going to France to see the estates that he would inherit, he would leave with his grandparents, and his father would pick him a week after. Plus, this coming year he was going to Hogwarts, he would have friends, he had a father, a mother, a brother, and soon one more brother or sister, he couldn't wait. Greg was too busy with Hermione, when he was older he was going to find a witch just like her. Life couldn't be better.

However, right now, his love was Camellia, who catered to him and was pleased to have a younger person who liked to play. He was going to ask Greg, to ask his future sister-in-law to allow him too bring Camellia to the trip and then to Hogwarts. She would make an awesome familiar. Greg used go give him whatever he wanted, so there was some hope. He just needed to gather some courage and was trying to figure out the best tactic.

Irina sat by Robert, holding her hand, "I am so happy, I still cannot believe Ephraim is here, so much joy. I wished I could have seen François, but he was no longer there, the monsters. I am sure everything will work out." She had mourned François again, just as Greg had, but it had been more of a closure than grief, his soul was no longer there; nevertheless she wished it hadn't been so.

**Hermione's choices**

Draco and Harry had not yet arrived; they had to think over the proposal to present to Hermione. The selfish wizards had been fighting for days. Harry wanted out, and Draco did as well, because they both wanted the witch. They had been honest and surprisingly had the same idea

If Hermione thought she couldn't be with three wizards, and would consider two, they wanted to be the one. Harry argued he had known her longer, and Draco would say that matter none, he had not been engaged to Ginny, and dated her right before Harry, and the fight went on. Nobody had asked Hermione what she wanted to do.

Lucius had behaved as the proverbial snake that brought the discord all around. He had called Draco on the side, and had talked about the babies' powers, and to think about his stupid decision; how he had given up on Hermione, such a smart witch; even Henri knew her worth, blah, blah…

It was unfortunate that Lucius words found a fertile ground; Draco wanted his children to be the most powerful wizards ever. It was true the apple didn't fall far from the tree, as his father well knew. They were both thinking in close terms of their power, and what they would represent to the wizarding world.

Arthur had done the same with Harry, and made him aware of the dark past of the two wizards who were fathering babies with Hermione. Henri might not have taken the Dark mark, but he was a Malfoy; and Greg who had spent a long sentence would more than likely be fathering children with the golden girl. Arthur opened his eyes and told him his duty was to the Light not to Draco.

Harry was horrified thinking of Lucius having any say so over they babies; he could easily picture Lucius as the next Dark Lord with the babies' power behind their beloved grandfather, but surely Lucius had changed, or had he?

Of course, Molly was behind this anxiety, she wanted one her boys with Hermione. And now there was Greg to make it even worse, another so called Dark Wizard into the equation. The Light had to stay together; poor Ron he had to hear Molly fussing about his lack of better judgment.

Hermione argued that three were too many husbands. And Greg was her choice, the fact that he had loved her forever really appealed to her. She had never rushed her decisions, and her closeness with Greg was surprising everyone. She had dreamed of Henri, who told her that Greg would always love her. For a strange reason, she had also dreamed of Severus, and he was telling her that the babies would be pawns in Lucius game for power, and to stay away from Draco.

If one had to look further, even Hermione was surprised she had decided so fast. Her father told her that when he had met her mother, he knew in a couple of days. Some relationships just were just meant to be. They married in less than a month, they had met in a group for children of war survivors, and it had been love at first sight. Same with Irina, they knew how they felt in days. He told her that he trusted her judgment.

She had offered to talk to them, and had let them know her terms weren't negotiable. She stuck to her less than truthful story; the one of not really wanting them, just for the children. She was a lioness but one who held a long grudge. For once, she wanted to have what she wanted.

Well, she wanted the two selfish wizards for her own, mostly because of the babies, and because, well… because she wanted them; and only if they agreed to her conditions, which were not generous.

Most of all she wanted Greg to be happy. If someone had told her she would be marrying Greg Goyle while she was at Hogwards, she would have laughed for a long while.

Molly was aghast, why not consider Charlie instead. "If she wants two husbands, Harry and Draco made their choice, I have always wanted her for my daughter." Needless to say, Harry was not listening to either Molly, or Draco, or to anyone for that matter, he wanted to listen to his own heart, for a change. All his life he had listened to everyone, and this time he wanted Hermione and Draco, if he could have both.

**Back at the balcony-**

"Love, everyone is really busy;" he sat by her, and snuck his hand under the blanket. Her eyebrow rose. "Mine, mine, Lord Goyle, you are one very naughty wizard.'

His breath hitched, "Not nearly as much as you, no knickers."

A giggle behind them made Greg's mild temper raised a few octaves. "I don't care who hiding around, OUT!"

It was young Kimmy, "Ms. Malfoy wants it a milk-shaken"

"Is it strawberry?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Yes, missus Goyle, I means Lady Malfoy."

Kimmy corrected herself giggling, and covering her mouth with her spindly hands; her giggle started a chain of elfish giggles along the corridor. Greg rolled his eyes. He wanted privacy, and the elves were being absolute pests. They were her fans, and when they discovered 'The Grangy,' was Hermione, all asked Greg if they could go with him when/if he married Hermione. They had turned into virtual vermin as far as Greg was concerned.

"Leave them here and everyone out." Greg moved them along with his hands. Two more elves came in; each carried one item, the second milkshake and cookies, and two more rolled in with cold water, and lemonade. They could not get enough of Hermione, who was finding it rather charming and had to control her own giggles.

It was the second day back from Mungos' and the assistant Healer had stayed at her room the first night, tonight she was alone, and he was planning to stay with her.

"Lock the doors" Hermione told him in a low voice," I want to be with you."

Greg's mouth went dry and a moan escaped his lips. Frissons of desire made rapid circuits around his body, until they woke up a hunger to have her right there. He was hard in a nanosecond and his body felt torpid, heavy, and all he could think was of Hermione. He wanted to ask the Healer if it was too soon.

He did what he was told, when he finished going around the room, he also closed the balcony door.

He turned around, he could not see her. He looked towards the bed, and there she was. Hermione's head rested on the pillow against the headboard, she was sipping the tall milkshake with a magic straw, and the only item of clothing was a thin silk coral red chemise that barely covered the top of her thighs. On the night table, next to the other side of the bed was Greg's glass.

She smiled devilishly, and padded the side of her bed. He couldn't move and was frozen in place. "Give me a few," he croaked, barely audible. All his blood flow had gathered in on one location, his ram.

The darkness of the last days had been replaced by the soft light of hope of new beginnings. Her perfume enticed his senses. She came home two days ago, and he had slept in the room next to hers, well not sleep, he had been tormented the entire night.

He pulled his wand out, and was grateful to be wearing silk shorts today. He wore the blue-yins [sic] Hermione had asked Luna to buy for him, and they were, presently, too tight. Using his wand, he spelled them off too, but first pulled the small box out the pocket.

His eyes were fixed on her. The only sounds were his ragged breathing and the loud beeping of his heart.

Greg wanted to admire the beauty in front of him. Her belly was very round yet not an ounce of fat. From his vantage point she reminded him of one of the Muggle paintings in the main receiving room. Her long hair, still curly was semi-tamed. Two young elves had partly braided her, just at the top, and the rest of the hair fell in cascades leaving her enlarged breasts flowing out the chemise for his viewing.

He started walking towards the bed, but his legs were made out of lead. She put the drink to the side and kneeled on the bed waiting for him. He walked as fast as his legs could take him, never breaking contact with her eyes. His skin felt hot, his eyes were heavy. Before he knew it he was in front of her.

He fell on his knees and his head was at the height of her waist. His arms surrounded her; he rubbed his cheek over and over on her swollen belly and put his ear trying to hear the babies, they were fluttering around and a tiny kick or a punch greeted him, he smiled but not for long. His hands were tracing her body, learning each curve, and lust made him hungry for more.

He traced the outline of her heavy breasts with his fingertips. He wanted to take his time, but the urgency was too great. He had read the book '_How to make love to your pregnant witch_,' about ten times, it was a present from Rabastan, and he thanked him.

A thought distracted him, come to think of it, Rabastan had bought two of the same book, plus their library had a few on the subject, and he had seen several more since the Lestrange had moved into the guest rooms. The idea of Rabastan getting ready to shag his mother was nearly enough to deflate his erection, then he had to smile, he was being ridiculous, who was he to talk.

So closing that subject, he lowered the strap of her chemise and uncovered her breast.

"So perfect, so beautiful," his lips closed around the nipple, one hand covering one breast, and the other one exploring until they were both moaning. He brought one arm under her knees as he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he sat in the bed with her on his lap, although he was not longer sure of what he was doing.

His lips closed upon hers, already surrounded by a haze of desire, just caught in a frenzy of need. Once again he stood up, and lie her on the bed, he pulled a few pillows under her bum, slowly he let go of her mouth, and his trembling fingers traced her face, and then all the way down to her mound. He lay on his side slithering down like the snake he was.

Hermione's eyes were open; she could only see the top of his head. His lips followed the hot trail left by his caressing finger, until he reached the swollen nether lips. Her scent made him groan, "Hermione, you are so beautiful," He could not get enough from her.

When his mouth arrived at the neatly trimmed mound, upon touching her nether lips, warm and moist, he hissed at her taste, his tongue moved everywhere, his finger followed the lead, he felt her moist entrance and cried in need. His tongue went inside of her slick sex, and could not get enough of her taste. She moved her leg over his shoulder, and her hand caressed his head.

"More, yes, there, oh gods, yes," as his mouth moved over her hard clit, her body contracted in great pleasure, her hips clearing from the bed.

He felt her shudders, as he added a finger, making him groan every time she moved her hips.

"Hermione oh gods, I want to be inside. May I? Is it too soon, I will do whatever you think is right, "

The thought of finally being there, made him forget his surroundings. All he wanted was to be deep inside of her. His only thoughts were to be one with her; and it was taking him all his will not to force his will upon hers. His cock was pulsating furiously, he was ready, gods he wanted her.

She was talking, but he could hardly hear, "Greg, later, slow later, need, need inside. Need to feel alive, no more mouth, you, you, want to forget the darkness, the horror."

She was pulling his head up to hers. He moved up and embraced her from behind; he moved her leg over his. He was an expert, well he had read enough, and knew his moves. She was near to her 23rd week in this accelerated schedule, and he wanted to make pleasurable and safe. So he turned her head around and kissed her slowly and let her mouth go.

Her hand closed upon his, and she brought up to her lips, she kissed his hand, and licked his fingers; "Let me turn around, just a bit." He lowered her leg, and turned her around with great care. Hermione couldn't get over how gentle he was and anticipating all her needs, totally in tune with her. A little like Draco, but even more, his passion burned deep and hard for her, it made her want to please him.

She stopped on his index finger, and put in inside her mouth, in pretense of fellatio. Her other hand sought and found her target, hot, throbbing, and ready."Love, kitten, touch me, do it," his hand stretched seeking her heat.

She did just that, marveled on his size, and his desire for her, he was also dripping just as she was; and, once again, worried about his size; yes, concerned, yet she wanted him. She let go of the finger in her mouth and bit her lip. He could see the worry in her face.

"My little kitten, I promise to be very careful, whenever we are ready, and I will stop when you tell, me okay," at this she moved her let over his hip, but facing him, she had also read the same book, but found it was difficult.

"May I," his cock was sitting on her thigh, she was just caressing it, assessing, thinking,

He heard a low humming sound, which was apparently acquiescent, since she moved closer to him.

Finally he was just at the entrance. He could just push his hips forward and be in; his body was shaking with need but was afraid to hurt her, she was no longer afraid and wanted to feel him inside.

"Are you sure, I don't want to injure you. "

Although, it had been longer than a year since she had been with anyone, she wanted this wizard with such an intensity that she just could not understand. She could feel his prick hard and warm against her inner thigh, just outside of her vagina. Darn, he really felt big, and she could not remember if she was right.

"Greg, Greg, listen—if a baby can come through you are not as wide as the girth as one." They both chuckled, not without some concern.

"I need you, it isn't too soon, just go slowly," her voice was very low.

At feeling her entrance and barely inside, he still judged it too painful for her. When he pushed inside, she moaned in what sounded like pain, it was.

But the desire was too intense, "Hermione, love, tell me if it is too much, I need you. Forever, I do." His hips were pushing forward, her heat, and the tightness around were causing intense pleasure. He was loosing control, and his soft cries were making her mind foggy with lust. She relaxed more

The pressure was too delicious, too exquisite, "I love you, love you. So tight, love it," her hand were digging on his back, it was painful, yet really great.

The stretching was painful, pleasure waves traveled through both of them akin to nirvana, yet he sensed her discomfort. "It is better, slow, so good," and she shuddered with pleasure.

His hips moved forwards. His breath strangled; it took great effort to pull away, and he lifted her towards him, as he kneeled in the bed, and sat over his feet. "Love I will hold you, lower yourself onto me, you decide. Please do what you wish, take what you can, I am sorry, it is not more comfortable, "he placed his chin on her head, and she laughed nervously. What wizard would apologize for being too large? It was adorable.

She decided, and in one push, she lowered herself until she was virtually impaled on him. Her walls were contracting; she felt the fluttering and cramp like spasms. And still she was unable to take all of him, so she just waited on top of him, as his body shook in pleasure.

She thought of the babies afraid of the pain that maybe it was too much, however, now it was changing into pure pleasure. They both just stayed still. Greg lowered his head and caught one of her nipples; he was keening, his hips wanting to move, his thighs trembling; his hand moved down, just above their joining and played with her clit. Although, she was still frozen, his touch made her move her hips.

"Hermione, let me, please, I will be gentle," He kissed her face, her shoulders, grabbed her bum, his hand moved, gently but firmly just one side, and that was all it took.

She rocked gently, and he helped her. After that, it was all a word of sensation and love. Both calling each others names, all the pain of the years in Azkaban, the abuse, the fears, the tortures, all washed away in this sea of just pleasure.

His thrusts were gentle but fast he wanted more. She encouraged him, her teeth clamped on his shoulder, her body tensed, the waves of an orgasm washed over her. He held her with care, as if she would break. Both lowered their eyes, his face flushed with love, and lost, he looked at his cock just inside of her and held her very tight.

"Hermione do you like me, is it good for you?" His voice was barely there.

"Yes, yes, oh god." Holding on to her he made her lie on her side so this way he could be behind her.

This was better for her, gods he wanted fast, to pound into her. "You can do faster, go ahead," her voice came to him from a distance.

Oh yes, his tempo increased as he kissed her wherever he could, it was pure madness. On second he was kissing her, the next his mouth was fixed on her neck, her shoulders, his hands were all over, imparting the sense of urgency into her.

The contractions massaged him in all directions, he was right against her cervix, and the sensations were like nothing before. It was coming; he felt the pressure build up. He didn't want to close his eyes, a part of him wanted to remember her forever just like this.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," he thrust in and out of her; never before had he experienced such feeling of completeness. He wanted to hear from her, the sensations consumed him, never, never had it been like this, even his body made a perfect bow.

Hermione heard the multiple, _I love you_, but it was too soon, even though they had lived a life time in less than a day, "Greg, my love, my Greg."

In her womb, the children, Severus and Henri's new lives, felt love wash over them.

Turn me around turn me. You on to me, he did both it clumsily, with his hands over her bum grabbed her lips to breathe upon her, he could not concentrate enough to kiss.

"Hermione, I am coming, oh gods, be mine, be my wife, be mine. Please be mine." This wasn't the way he was going to propose either.

His thrusts were fast, he couldn't slow down, "sorry, am I too fast, can't stop, tell me. "

Hermione couldn't' remember these swells of pleasure; _It must be the hormones_, she thought vaguely_._

"Tell me. Please tell me," as he turned her face around to lay his mouth on hers. He supported his weight on one elbow.

She would forever been in wonder of what came out her lips, "Yes, yes, yours, your wife, yes, hold me now." Her teeth clamped over his shoulders. She did not want to scream. What a sensation, what was this?

They both climaxed hard, and she heard an unrecognizable sound, passion.

The yes registered in the back of his mind, and he did something crazy, still imbedded on her, he stood with her in his arms still coming and his legs trembling. Standing, holding her by her bum he covered her with frenetic kisses.

"Will you, for real? Please say it again," He loved her, he had loved her as long as he had known her, his impossible love. He felt hard again, and knelt on the floor, moving inside of her, he sat her on the edge of the bed.

"Yes, my good wizard, yes, I will be yours." She was happy and it wasn't just the sex; it was because of her father, her life, her children, and he was indeed her good wizard.

He kissed her tenderly, and moving her again, he sat with her on his lap and continued making love to her.

The last of the children, a little girl, received its soul, a witch that had died too young; she was from the house of Black, and her life had been cut short by the last war.

And it would be like this many a time, his thrusts kept going, and after a some minutes they were both riding another wav, and passed out from the intensity of their orgasms.

They practically stayed in her room for several days, and Draco and Harry would not even talk to each other, both consumed with jealousy. Lucius was aware, and he was conflicted because he loved Greg, but Draco was his flesh and blood.

_Think, Lucius think, killing Greg is probably not a good idea, even if it is rather tempting considering the powerful babies our Hermione has in her womb_. Lucius thoughts were running wild trying to find a solution for Draco, and he would always come to the same place: get rid of Harry, a nice young Wizard, and of Greg, his companion in Azkaban. He wished there was another solution, but if there was one he couldn't find it. He wanted the witch to be a Malfoy, only for their family, alas, he hadn't changed.

**Days later.**

"Irina, darling."

"Yes, Robert?"

"Rabastan talked to me earlier."

She turned several shades of red.

"I don't want sugar coated half-truths; you have always been in love with him haven't you?"

Tears poured out her eyes.

She could hear François, _tell him the truth, don't start with another lie; I could have accepted him, if you had only told me_.

"You will think that I am a bad woman."

"Never, I would not, just tell me, Ephraim isn't François son, is he? Rabastan already knows, if I am not mistaken. I had as much told you before, but you didn't say much."

"No, he isn't François son. Her face was hiding on his chest; she wasn't able to look at his eyes.

"So, he must be a Lestrange, he has a bit of Rabastan and Rodolphus, specifically their strange colored magical hair; I have never seen the eyes and hair color on you magical people." She was shaking, he guessed anxiety, and he caressed her hair.

"We should have known with Hermione, her eyes are light brown but burn with strange green and gold speckles when she is emotional; and her hair stands, and crackles with magic energy whenever she is angry, or happy, or heaven knows when else. Yes, everyone, of you magical beings, has something different about your hair or eyes."

She patted her still flat belly and smiled a secret smile. "Rabastan is so happy, years have come off him. He suspected he was the father, but I always denied it." She loved Robert and could not give him up. She wished in a selfish way, she could have both men, who wouldn't.

"I don't judge you my love, I have never been conventional, at the University before Helen, we were a rowdy bunch and the same was true during my military stint. You are beautiful, and although I am not gay, Rabastan and you make a beautiful couple, so I wouldn't mind watching, and he has said the same." His smile was making her weak with desire. He was a beautiful man, Cissy and Eva had both told her she was one lucky witch, she was.

She nipped the back of his hand, near his wrist, while he talked to her, funny she wanted to taste him and touch all the time, she loved him so very much. His breath hitched for a second at the bite; he loved this naughty woman.

"We don't want secrets or to be excluded. I am not going back to my practice. With my shoulder's nerves destroyed, my career is pretty much over; I am mostly left handed, and it will be difficult to do precision work. In a Muggle Hospital I would have lost my arm, so I am grateful for what I have." He bent to catch her face and kissed her softly.

"With the proceedings from the sell of the surgery, plus the insurance policy from Helen, and the money from selling property from my parents, I am well set. I don't want to hold important information back; in your currency I have a little over 325,000 Galleons in liquid assets. The old country home, and my home, they both can be let and produce more money. I know it is not comparable to your fortunes, but in the Muggle world is a respectable sum."

She was crying. "Ephraim deserves both of his parents," he was in the middle of talking to her when he looked at Rodolphus; no way, he seemed to have his eyes on Irina, "No, three men is too many."

She laughed, "Silly he isn't looking at me." Surely, his eyes were on Eve Malfoy who blushed.

"I don't like sex with other men, but I am not opposed to share beds with him, if that is your wish. I need to leave my world; I have three grandchildren coming, plus my own son, and let's not forget Hermione and her strange nuptial arrangement. I know she is to marry Greg as she has already told me, and bond or also marry the other two. I think is too fast, but she doesn't. Hence, I must conclude that it is best if we stay around magical people." She smiled at him.

"It is not unheard of, not in my world, and I think if Hermione and Greg know what they feel for each other why not. I grew up in the world of arranged marriages, and your daughter is what I would have wished for Greg. It pleases me."

"I wouldn't dare to contradict her, see my potential situation and tell me if I should stay in the Muggle world. I just want you to understand it is my choice, not just because of you." He stood up and shook an imaginary hand.

"Yes, nice to see you; haven't see you in a while. Have you seen my daughter? Ah, yes, that is her and her husband, err, and her husband and her husband, hmm, yes, three husbands. Ah, well, yes, they share a suite, and once in a while she will stay with the consorts, it is by mutual agreement, not sure I hear they made the room bigger, it is a little complex. She has triplets, one by her first husband, and two are not really hers, but…"

She was laughing, tears rolled down her cheeks. Yes those were the plans; it would make Lucius and Narcissa miserable to share. As far as Robert was concerned it was Hermione's affair.

"You are right." Irina acknowledged.

"Ah, and my daughter's dog, which now works as a sort of a police dog, and travels back and forth who knows where, definitely through to land of the dead, and she has three heads, occasionally. Yes, I am not crazy, it is correct.

She earns more in a mission, paid in gold pieces, than I did in six months; there are already bids, for millions of Galleons, if she is ever bred. Her sister is not quite that magical but she has two permanent heads, and they are related to Cerberus. Hmm, yes, that Cerberus, the one from Hades… No, I am sure, the small pooch has two rows of sharp teeth, and flies, and walks through the land of the dead, flies in the shape of a ball fire. I am not imagining, of that I am certain."

"You win," she could not stop laughing.

"I have not finished Mrs. Witch. So, as I was saying, do you know my naughty wife, is a witch, she has forever loved this wizard with multi-color-hair, some green, purple and blue, mostly auburn; and purple eyes, natural, and I am marrying both of them. He loves to fly in a broom, and did you know that I found that I can fly. Not in an airplane, in a broom, I am learning to fly, yes a broom, yes you heard right. That alone would land me in a home for the mentally ill, if not in prison for bigamy."

She begged him to quit, the healing injuries hurt from laughing, and she asked him to never again go back to the muggle world. He said he would be happy to oblige. He didn't have living relatives, neither had Helen.

**The weddings**

Over half of the attendees to Hermione's nuptials, followed by Irina's, were former Death Eaters. Crabbe Manor was now the center for _New Beginnings_ for magical children with learning disabilities. Greg was now working as the director, and Herb quit his job at Azkaban and took over the deputy job. He moved into the dowager's house of Goyle Manor. Hermione who was nearly to term, on her right side stood Greg, and to her left and behind were Draco and Harry.

Of course, many young witches were displeased at Hermione getting three wizards, but Luna said it all. "Two of them are gay; it is in name only, a pretense for Lucius Malfoy's sake." This time Luna was wrong, or maybe she had told a white lie, so ill wishing wouldn't touch her.

Greyback looked very handsome surrounded by his family, and of course, he was human for the celebration. His son ever proud of his father's last minute decision, because of him the weddings' day was possible. Caspian was a regular visitor and made friends with Ephraim, there was only one year difference, and both loved to play with Camellia, who turned out to be the best form of therapy for the boys.

Ephraim had fallen behind one year with the tutors so they would be going to Hogwarts together, to fourth year. Camellia still growled at Fenrir, who finally won her over bringing her fresh rabbit and other delicacies.

During the wedding she had finally allowed Fenrir to put her on his shoulder, maybe it had to do with the boar bacon he had in his front pocket. One of his twin daughters was dating Charlie Weasley, which had made Molly unhappy; nothing to worry about, her son was happy for the two of them. Marriage seemed around the corner, and Molly didn't want the fiend Greyback on her family, neither did Bill.

Yaxley had a date, he was dating a younger, war-widow, and wedding bells must have been ringing if one was to judge by his smile and her ring. He had brought extravagant presents for both brides, and was schmoozing his way into a respectable job; by the end of the party he had been offered the job of coordinator at the new center.

The center would be a success, they already had full quota, and the tuition was based in parent's income. Narcissa was happy that one from the Rosier family was cleaning his act. Lucius was going to be teaching, along with Lestrange brothers, it turned out he liked being called professor, and molding the minds of young people. Some would make fun and say he was educating his future minions.

Palu, the young hoodlum; who was working in the clerical room at Granpucnot, under the tight supervision of Pucey, who still didn't trust him completely, also came to the party, to help. He was getting paid handsomely for the work done. Adrian had taken to correct him and was short of a tyrant. Palu admired Adrian, and was glad that today he was off his back; he was seriously pursuing the other Greyback twin. He had all the luck, what a beauty she was, Palu was thinking leaning on a tree and drinking a pinched glass of champagne, when a hand took it away.

"No drinking until you do your work, you aren't here as a guest but to work." Palu smiled;" Adrian was a tyrant but was interested on him, and he liked the attention.

"Yes, boss whatever you say," and Adrian answered, "You better and didn't smile once.

Evangeline was dancing with Rodolphus, they were starting to see each other, "Rodolphus, cheri, I had the strangest dream, not once but several times. It was Henri, he told me the reason his picture disappeared from the frames, is because Camellia had changed the portrait to something else, he wasn't a portrait, it was really him. She found them somewhere, he could say. He told me to check his marks when he is born, he said he is Hermione's son, and each male in my family has a different set."

"Who knows darling, anything is possible, and I hope it is so. Maybe one day, you can have another baby, you are still able." He looked at her with much hope.

**The future.**

The new duo/trio/poly chose to live at a new Manor built in land between Goyle and Malfoy Manor, near to one of the streams and the forest. Lucius had come up with this solution and surprisingly suited everyone.

Since the first day, Draco tried to bring Camellia to the bed he shared with Harry. As soon as he would go to sleep she just popped by her mommy.

The twins were coming any day, and she did not expect to get a good shut eye for a while. The triplets were a handful. At four, they all talked, and didn't give her a minute's peace. The two boys really loved her, especially Scorpius Severus, who still didn't remember who he had been, but Camellia did. All the babies loved Camellia, and she watched them constantly.

While Ephraim went to Hogwarts, her mommy let her go with him for a month; however she missed her mommy too much, so she decide to cut the visit short, and came back through the empty frame. Ephraim was now busy most of the time, he was a prefect, and Caspian was also one, and they were in their last year. They both played Quidditch, and nobody treated Caspian bad for being a werewolf.

Dundy, Camellia's sister hanged around with the boys all day long, she was sweet and tolerant, however, she watched nothing bad happened to them and showed marked favoritism. If someone teased or harassed Caspian, for being a werewolf, Dundy was quick to dispense justice; his father rewarded handsomely with fresh rabbit, and on occasion deer or boar.

Eva married Rodolphus when Henri Jr. was nearly two, and they were very happy. Eva wanted to go back to France, but Rodolphus liked his job. So they stayed, and Eva went back for a few months out the year, and he used Portkey back and forth. He preferred the job teaching that working in the firm, it gave him more time with his wife.

When the first babies came, Draco and Harry assured her they would do all the work, and Eva told them she would do most of it, but there were three. She took full care of her grandson. Eva was amazed by the similarities, fate felt the pain of the mother, and the child bore Henri's birth marks. The baby was very attached to his grandmother, and she was sure of whom he was.

The poly-group never discussed their sleeping arrangement. One thing was certain, Greg never joined, nor would he would join them when they played or would play together.

Greg was very happy knowing he had his witch, that as long as he didn't have to be naked around Harry or Draco, he was a happy wizard, nor did he wish to see them kissing, Harry and Draco that was. Not that this happened so often any more. Lucius had slowly but surely poisoned the relationship, and they both wanted to be the one in bed with Hermione.

Hermione being astute recognized Lucius' hand. First, Greg would let one in at a time for sleeping time, but not two, and not on his side.

Lucius made sure he would talk, quite often, to Greg on the side. The room was enlarged, one large bed and a smaller one on the side, one of the duo allowed at once in the main bed. And the fighting subsided much to Lucius' dismay.

Machiavellian intervention, well described Lucius' action plan**. **Over the years the group would more than sleep together, but the rules imposed by Greg never relaxed, so the play room remained open when Hermione wanted to be with the two wizards. One seemed to be fine, but not the two at the same time. The other was welcome to watch. So in the days Hermione had 'dates' with Draco and Harry, Greg would pick up the children and take them to play with François Grant Granger-Lestrange, and later with Karina Lestrange-Granger.

Lucius never gave up his plans for the new Malfoy generation, and spent months wondering how he could convince Hermione into just one Draco-Granger baby, there were ways to foil potions and never get caught, and Lucius knew them all.

A look into the future revealed a secret; Hermione had two more pregnancies, both normal pregnancies, at least she hadn't been artificially impregnated. However, two sets of twins later; each set had one Malfoy-Granger baby. Predictably, Lucius had a twinkle on his eye and danced with Narcissa each time. Draco was not a fool, so when the twins were born and testing was made, and one of the twins was found out to be his child, he knew his cunning father had done something strange. The only allowed not to use a contraception spell was Greg but Draco wasn't complaining, the Malfoy-Granger girl was a pleasant surprise.

The magic discharge produced by the children when she was attacked that day at her home, changed something in Hermione, and apparently she would always conceive multiple babies, and all decided they had enough children after the second set of twins.

When the next set was born two years later, this time two boys, they were all surprised at another Malfoy-Granger boy. Draco came, for the first time since Voldemort, to sit by Lucius side and hugged and kissed his Dark wizard father. Lucius dried a tear or two.

"Thanks father, you gave me all my dreams, children, my witch, and my wizard. True, you are smart, I want her for my own, but hear me right; if you touch one hair of either Greg or Harry, well, you are one dead toad. So you know, Hermione isn't forgiving, and she will kick me out her bed, and I will never, ever forgive you. So make sure you listen to my word, if I lose my witch because you fall into temptation and kill one or both; mother will find a cold body stretched on her bed. I do love you father. "

Lucius laughed with glee, "Son, you are such a joker; I know you don't believe I would plan something like that, "but his heart beeped a little too fast. Darn, spoiled sport, he was already working on a foolproof plan to get rid of the competition, but a cold Malfoy gleam inside of Draco's eye, told him to stay put, never to try.

"Ah, quit poisoning me against Harry, the children need a stable home, you don't want them to grow with all kinds of problems because of their grandfather, do you? You want them to rule the world and it isn't going to happen with children that have mental problems, ah?"

And if that wasn't enough, he had a visit from the Lestrange brothers. Rabastan, called him to the side, "If you so much as touch one of Greg's hair or hurt Harry in anyway, make sure you have written a good testament because your days will be numbered. We all want Hermione happy; and you must not know her enough, because she won't be happy without Greg, and Harry has always been her love, so watch it."

All true; thus far, he has heeded the advice, he is a very smart wizard, but has not yet quit planning. You never know when the opportunity might arise.

* * *

**x0x0x0**

***koshechka = my kitten**

Till the next story, Thanks to the few readers out there; this story doesn't have a lot of readers, and I think it is one of the best. Thanks to those who read it.


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